There is nothing to report.
I went to my especiale fishing spot Sunday afternoon. Hot, humid and windy. But not too windy, mind you. The first thing that I couldn’t help noticing was the bright yellow pipe gate with the “No trespassing…DANGER” sign posted in two places on it. I had seen the gate, but the sign was new. Had they added some tigers since last summer? Some nuclear waste? Unrepentant psychopathic fashion designers?
Well, after I trespassed, I didn’t see any of the above hazards, so I proceeded up the road and over the levee. The time was around 5:30 p.m. and the wind was out of the South at approximately 6 miles per hour, but steady. One of the first things I noticed was that they (the ever-guilty “they”) had cut down all of the small trees at the edge of the water. I actually had to think about where to get in the water. Very disconcerting.
The rest of the evening was spent with me plying the waters for my quarry of choice, the venerable Sciaenops ocellatus; the venerable red drum. Suffice to say, from the opening line, there was no danger of catching reds that evening. But I was outside, in very warm water up to my knees and at times to the middle of my thigh, and the birds and the sea breeze and sunset calmed my soul.
As I trudged back to the car via the levee, I paused to scan the bayou yet again. I saw a group of seagulls working a small area about 250 yards away. From experience, I knew that there was a group of trout or redfish dining on baitfish or shrimp at that location, and the birds were there to clean up the table with a lot of noise. I also noticed a couple of guys in a jon boat just about 50 yards from where this was all happening. I stared in wonder as the pair just sat there, never moving any closer to the action. Incredulous, I sent them messages telepathically, “Cast into the birds, get closer, cast to the birds, get closer…”, yet there they sat. Had I had wings or a kayak, I would have moved over there so fast, the boat sitters would have been embarrassed.
But I can neither fly or paddle a kayak that I don’t own, so I watched for a bit, then trudged back through the humid wind to my little car.
Maybe the redfish were aware of the “DANGER” as posted on the sign. I certainly left them safe. 
The picture is of the fish I never caught. These are from last year, but their relatives are not in the freezer right now.
Sunday, June 06, 2010
Fishing Report
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
It would suck to be one of those fishies - having to live all one's life knowing, just knowing that some day luck would run out and death by aA's fishin' pole would be their untimely end.
Thanks Big I, for the complimentary implication that I am legendary in the bayou among the fish. More like a running joke.
As I was lashing the water to a froth, getting nothing, I imagine a big red leaning back on hi caudal fins, picking mullet out of his teeth with a tiny crab claw, watching in amusement as the large biped slogs through the mud to play hide and seek with him.
It's OK aA, the fish you did not catch will only grow bigger, and you can catch them next year. Then you can post a photo of a blank sidewalk to remind everyone about the ones that you did not catch the year before.
Post a Comment