5/8/04 The last two days were supposed to be "partly cloudy." Yesterday, the forecast was half right -- that is, it was cloudy (completely!). And today, it was correct until about noon. It was then that my clients -- John Gatto from Slippery Rock, Pennsylvania, and his buddy Dan Demeis from Dallas -- and I slipped through the fingers of one thunderstorm only to get hammered by another that was hidden from us in the haze. We finally made it back to Kingfisher about 1:00, soaked to the skin, and happy to be raw (as opposed to fried). Only meteorologists and psychotherapists (like myself) get paid so much just for guessing.
    Joe and Debbie MacKay from Austin arrived at the dock just before we did. Although the day ended sooner than we all expected it to, we still had plenty to good fishing stories to tell.

Yesterday, I hoped to find redfish working under gulls along the west shoreline. Sure enough, we found a few pods tailing under birds, and heading upwind, chasing shrimp. The guys were unaccustomed to the action, and it took them a while to realize that the fish were moving so rapidly. After a couple of missed opportunities, we looped upwind in the Curlew and intercepted the fish for a second try. John finally got his VIP in the tails and hooked up on his first red. Then, he and I coached Dan as his waded into a huge pod that was tailing only 30 feet from him. Just before Dan was surely going to score a strike, the pod surged and swam toward him -- as they are prone to do, for no apparent reason. Dan came back to the boat with that stunned "what the hell was that!?" look on his face.
    Once the podding action ended, we did the only thing we could do in the cloudy and windy conditions: The guys blind casted poppers in an area where we've been finding a concentration of redfish and trout. John caught two nice trout, lost a red, and covorted with several ladyfish before we headed for other areas. But the lack of sunshine made John and Dan's first day on the Lower Laguna a challenging one.
    While Dan came up fishless on his first encounter with a pod of tailing reds, it doesn't take long before the Mother Lagoon and its residents will teach you what you need to know. Twenty four hours later, it was deja vu for Dan. We headed south to another podding venue, and before it was over, Dan stood face to face with a school that was sweeping toward him. This time, the angler seized the moment, and one of the lead redfish took the pink VIP -- almost on the drop.
    We found tailing pods and schools in two different west-side venues, yesterday and today.  Indeed, this morning we found redfish stacked along a shoreline, in several groups of 10-50 fish. Meanwhile, Joe and Debby found tailing reds in twos and threes, "in every direction, as far we could see." The spring podding action continues unabated, and I expect we'll continue to get early morning and late aafternoon podding on the west side until the tides fall in June. For a guide like myself, the spring and autumn podding action is a "saver" on windy and cloudy days.

4/27/04 The past week has been one of the best weeks of fly fishing we've had in a long time. I'll pick up where I left off below.

Skipper Ray guided our two clients, Roger Flynn and Dave Scheff while Kathy and I tended to our respective school duties at UT Pan American. The tides were still low on Monday, and coming up on Tuesday. Monday was a poor catching day, but on Tuesday, the guys caught quite a few ladyfish and a few reds blind casting in one of the drilling channels. On Wednesday, we had cloudy conditions early, but the tides were climbing to their usual springtime levels. I expected the redfish to return to podding activity along the west shoreline. Kathy guided two other guests -- Terry and Gaye Mackey from Colorado Springs -- and she opted to start off along the Intracoastal where Skipper had located some podding reds the day before.

I started off on a west-side venue that had been too low to fish for about three weeks. It was cloudy and windy, so I poled downwind to take a look. The bay was full of reds! Spotting a few tails breaking through the roughed-up surface, I suggested that the guys get off the boat and wade downwind, casting VIPs to anything that moved. Roger took off on his own, and I stayed close to Dave, helping him spot the subtle signs of tails. It wasn't long before Roger hooked up on the first of four sizeable reds that were tailing upwind. Dave wasn't successful on his first wade, so we went back to the boat, and poled downwind, using the intermittent sunshine to show us the fish. Every time the sun peeked out, Dave would get a couple of shots, because the fish were all over.

Later, we went to the white sand where Kathy joined us with her clients. The sun had burned off the clouds, and the fish were right up against the Padre Island shoreline. For about two hours, the four fly fishers waded downwind, getting a few quality shots apiece. Terry caught his first red on a fly, and Dave hooked two and landed one. Roger, meanwhile, pulled the fly out of the mouths of two big reds. We ended up the day blind casting on the same channel that Skipper had taken them to the day before. Again, numerous ladyfish were caught, along with three more reds.

Thursday proved to be a banner day. Kathy and I took our clients to a shoreline where I'd hoped to find podding redfish. As soon as we came off plane, I could see pods sweeping upwind, and birds following. So I urged the guys to get off the boat and intercept the fish. Kathy anchored just behind us, and coached the Mackeys on how to score with these aggressively feeding, fast-moving pods.

Before we left the area at 11, Roger had landed eight reds and Dave had caught four -- all on pink and yellow VIPs. Gradually, the pods dispersed (I wonder why!); but everyone had seen some amazing action. Terry had caught his second red, and Gaye had hooked two.

I moved my guys several miles south, where I'd found podding reds a couple of days earlier. We planed into the area, and moved a school of redfish toward a shoreline. So we hopped of the boat, and followed the laughing gulls into a cove where the school continued to feed. Dave stalked three fish that were off on their own, and snagged the largest fish of the day -- a 29-30" red -- on a VIP.  At day's end, the guys had landed 14 reds from 24-30 inches long. Needless to say, they were stoked! (The photos of the largest fish were taken on slide film, and hence weren't processed in time for this report.)

Skipper joined us on the water on Friday, guiding Drs. Jim Burkholder and Steve Shephard, along with two of their buddies. We all headed for the same area, where Skipper's guys proceeded to catch over a dozen reds wading and casting VIPs  -- and Skipper's variation that he calls the "super" VIP, which resembles a small floating jeep, in my opinion :) My guys landed 8 more reds, half on top and half on Mother's Day flies. The pods were broken up, so it was different fishing, and most of the fish were caught late in the day -- singles that were tailing on a shallow, grassy flat, providing classic, precision sight-casting opportunities.

Henry Bone and Jeff Ferguson were fishing on Henry's HPX, and they headed south where Dave had caught that big red the day before. They found the area full of podding fish, and caught quite a few reds. As the tides continued rising, the west shoreline of the LLM was attracting more and more redfish. It was hard to believe that it could get any better, but Saturday and Sunday were "mythic" days, with so many redfish gathering on the west side during the evening high tide that it simply hard to believe.

Roger and Dave ended up fishing only a half day on Saturday, and landed a couple of reds before we had to head in. But as we left, I could see that the redfish were coming into the area from the north -- a classic pattern that culminates in "storybook" afternoon fishing. As we left, Jeff and Henry came into the area. A few hours later, they came in at dusk. They looked stunned, and said that they'd never seen so many redfish podding and tailing in their lives. I'm not sure how many they landed, but I believe it was a double-digit day for both of them.

On Sunday, Kathy and saw all of our guests off -- all ten of them. We worked on schoolwork until late afternoon. The wind died down, and I suggested that we fish for a couple of hours before dark. Needless to say, we headed for the same area where we'd been fishing. Noticing that the tides were higher than they'd been in three weeks, I said, "I'll bet every redfish in the bay in on the west shoreline feeding on shrimp."

A few minutes later, we entered the area. Pods and small schools surged away from the intruding boat, so we stopped and drifted downwind into...the most incredible podding action that we'd seen in...well...since the last time we fished together. Pods and small schools were everywhere you looked. Using a 5-weight TICRx -- a new rod designed by Temple Fork -- I caught eight reds on a pink VIP in an hour up to 28 inches. I stopped fishing for a while so I could get some photos of the big fish before releasing it. Meanwhile, Kathy had pinched her barb down, but doesn't blame that for missing about six reds in a row (I would have!). She landed only one, but spent most of her time fishing upwind -- a challenging approach in any venue, but expecially when the casts are over 40 feet. Our dog Lilly had two romps across the flats, putting down every redfish within 100 yards, but just as soon as Lilly was back on the boat, the fish and the birds began working the shrimp again. It was one of those truly beautiful evenings on the LLM.

4/18/04 Kathy and I had the pleasure of guiding Jane and Dennis Aebersold from Norman, Oklahoma from Wednesday afternoon through Friday. Having never fly fished in salt water, the Aebersolds weren't sure what to expect, but after three days, they are veterans of the Lower Laguna, and vowed to return upon their departure on Saturday.  Since the tides are as low as I've ever seen them in April, we weren't able to fish some of our favorite podding action venues. Even so, we were able to show them  some pretty good action in areas where a low tide is an advantage, like southeast of the mouth of the Arroyo, South Cullens Bay, and the white sand near east of Three Islands. Indeed, on Wednesday afternoon, we stumbled into the motherload of redfish up on the white sand, but it was so late in the day that they were hard to see.
    Dennis insisted on using a beautiful bamboo rod he'd crafted himself. I was concerned that he was handcapping himself in a fishery that's known for bringing people to their knees, but when I gently inquired about the possibility of using one of our rods, he stood firm. I realized shortly afterward that it was quality, not quantity that appealed to both Dennis and Jane.  Dennis was finally rewarded for his commitment by landing this beautiful red on the white sand -- the first redfish taken on a bamboo rod while we've been guiding -- and only the second bamboo rod used on our boat.
    Last Wednesday morning -- before the Aebersolds arrived -- I guided Miguel Neri from San Francisco. Wednesday was a beautiful day -- low winds, and full sun. The fish weren't hard to find: there were pods and schools of reds all over the east side. But they were mixed with mullet, and that often means that it's hard to get close to the game fish, as the mullet "push" them beyond casting range. Finally, on a whim, I took the Curlew into the west-wide spot mentioned above, and we shut down in the middle of a dozen pods working under birds in less than a foot of water. Backs and tails were shining in the sunlight, and the birds were going crazy. We were at the end of our half day, so we had to go in pretty soon, but Miguel was able to put his Mother's Day Fly in the middle of 20 frolicking fish, and scored his first redfish on a fly. He just emailed me with this: Scott:  I am back in San Francisco and, before getting back into the work grind, I wanted to send you a quick note to thank you again for (patiently) guiding me on the Laguna Madre last week.  It was a treat just to see the natural beauty of the place; the fish was a bonus.  I had a tremendous time and learned quite a bit.  I hope we can do it again soon.  Thanks again. - Miguel
    I didn't have my good digital, but I snapped this shot of gulls working over reds while Miguel was gettign ready to cast to them.
    Back to yesterday (Saturday) -- Jim Posgate -- who has to be one of our most successful regular clients -- seems to have a knack for picking days. Saturday wasn't supposed to be very good -- windy by midmorning, and possibly cloudy, too. But he wanted to show his buddy Vance a day on the Lower Laguna. So we left the dock early to check out the same venue that I'd taken Miguel Neri to on Wednesday.
    It was so dark that we couldn't see anything at first; but as the sun rose, we realized that we were surrounded by pods of aggressively feeding fish. About 200 birds were working over about 20 acres. Needless to say, Jim and Vance wasted no time hiking toward the nearest pods. I took two rolls of 35 mm film of tailing pods or small schools, while the guys had three double hookups. I'm not sure how many reds they landed -- but they had one awesome morning. We spent about three hours in that area before the reds began to disperse, which they often do by midmorning. Jim emailed us with this note of thanks: Scott and Kathy--Just wanted to drop a note to express my appreciation for some truly world class fishing over the recent several months--You guys are terrific and I really appreciate the effort you consistently put into your operations--100% ALL-PRO!  Thanks a bunch--"Pos".
    Today, I guided Dave Scheff and Roger Flynn from  San Francisco, and Albuquerque. They are here for a whole week of fly fishing, giving new meaning to the term "gung ho." We had a windy day -- 20-30 mph winds! There weren't any fish caught, but we saw a passable number on the white sand, and Roger jerked the fly away from a big red that was saying "ahhhh.." Tomorrow and Tuesday, they'll be with Skipper, and then back with me for Wednesday through Saturday. We hope to have some good pics of them with big fish before it's all over.

4/12/04 There's too much to tell in the time I have, but I'll summarize the last week the best I can. We've been fishing tailing pods on the west side, and cruising reds in the shallowest waters of the "white sand," as well. Starting early, and focusing our efforts along the west shoreline of the Lower Laguna, we've had the best podding action that I've seen in several years, probably because the shrimp population is exploding due to all of the fresh water we've had in the last 18 months.  I'll post some more photos later, but here's one shot of a tailing pod under a laughing gull.  I was alone that morning -- and didn't even cast to the dozen pods that were all around me --  but the day before, I guided Jim Posgate from Kerrville, who caught five reds out of tailing pods just like this one. It's exciting -- and relatively easy -- fly fishing, and it's "on" on calm and windy mornings. So it's a springtime "saver" for a fly fisher, who might otherwise find it hard to see fish on a windy, cloudy day.
    The next day, I took out Jim with his buddy Phil. The pods weren't working, perhaps because of a slack tide, but Jim scored big-time with a 30" red that he caught on a chartreuse Mother's Day Fly, while casting to single reds from the Curlew.

4/2/04 We're gearing up for a full month of guiding, so Kathy and I seized the opportunity to fish together yesterday morning. We took our lab puppy, Lilly with us, and headed out at 6:30 to see if we could get into the same action that I enjoyed with my brother the day before yesterday. (See below). It wasn't calm at daybreak, so I wasn't sure we'd find them tailing. But after shutting down, and poling into the area, we spotted a pod within a couple of minutes. Kathy jumped off the boat, and I followed her with my camera, but the reds were heading away, so we never caught up with them. We went back to the boat and started over again. I decided to fish near Kathy, and carry my good digital, so I could photograph her catch. Neither one of us had much interest in just catching fish: I wanted to photograph tailing reds, and she just wanted to commune with the scene, and play with Lilly. As I said to a client the other day, when you don't put catching fish first, you usually catch a lot!
Kathy soon locked onto a tailing pod of about 12 reds -- that was the "standard" pod size of the morning, it turned out. The first time she got her orange VIP into the tails, one of them grabbed it immediately. I came over and took pictures of her fish, and then she said, "Your turn." Pods were all around, so it didn't take me long to catch up with one. Pow! The strike was like a firecracker. The reds have taken the poppers so aggressively, probably becasue they are chasing shrimp right now, and the shrimp try to get away by hopping across the surface. Indeed, we could see shrimp hopping out of the way of the orange masses of fish, but every once in a while, a red would leave the pod to snatch the would-be escapee.

The wind rose to about 15 mph, and we lost sight of the tailing pods. I suggested that the reds had moved over along a bank, because we could see a few laughing gulls working low to the water -- a sure sign of podding redfish. So, we hiked about 200 yards, and found ourselves surrounded by pods again. In a few minutes, we'd both hooked up on separate pods, and landed the fish about the same time.

I put my rod away, and grabbed my 35mm camera with a 300mm telephoto. For the next half hour, I chased the same pod of reds around, trying to catch the tails on film. It was a blast! Kathy, meanwhile, put her rod away, too, and played with Lilly along the spoil island bank.

It was a perfect morning, and we both agreed that after catching two reds apiece, we'd had all the catching we needed.
 

3/31/04 My brother and I went out this morning, just to check out a couple of places. We ran into a remote lagoon, where Chip caught two on his spin rod, and I missed one on a VIP. The water was a bit low to host large numbers of fish, so we left for another spot that was so hot last April that I went there every morning for a month. Last April there were hundreds of tailing reds there every morning, in pods of 6-60.

We pulled into the area, and shut down. Wakes were everywhere, and it was dead calm, so we didn't wait to see what would show. We got out of the boat, and headed for the area where they were congregated last spring. Sure enough, in a few minutes, redfish tails were popping up everywhere. There were probably more tails than I've ever seen in one area.

We only fished for about 1 1/2 hours, because Chip had to go in early. But in that time, I hooked seven on yellow and orange VIPs and landed six -- up to about 26-27 inches (The one in the photo was the last one I caught). Most were in the 24 inch range. Chip, meanwhile, was using a Tiny Torpedo, and caught five or six more. He lost several that hammered the topwater, but got off.

It was easy fishing, as long as you could cast 50-60 feet. If I'd stopped wading, they would have come in closer, but I depended on my cast to clinch the deal.

I've said it before -- It doesn't get much better than this!

3/27/04 I guided Bryan Sperry and his friend Stephen today, and it was hard to find fish in 25 mph winds and churned up water. Still, Bryan excecuted when he had the chance, and tagged this nice 24 inch red on a Mother's Day Fly , casting from the Curlew. Unfortunately, I stayed away from a certain unnamed area because my brother Chip and his son Spencer were already there. It was my mistake to be so polite. Even though they were spin fishing , they caught 11 reds blind casting topwaters,  and lost several more. They caught the fish in the same spot that I caught a 30 3/4" red yesterday when Kathy and I were out scouting (I let Kathy hold the fish for a photo, because she often lets me do the same when she catches all the fish). Needless to say, Bryan and Stephen and I are going back to that spot tomorrow. Chip and Spencer will be there, too. It's the same place where I caught the state fly rod record redfish in 1999, and a larger one the day before. I dont' go there very often, because it's a blind casting venue, and I usually go in search of visible fish. But it's so good sometimes that you don't have to see them to catch a lot of reds.

The tides are higher now, so we're fishing the back lagoons where we haven't fished since last fall. It's a different scene -- very remote, and very close-in, sensitive areas. The Curlew is the boat for this action, as it is for the summer and winter low water. There aren't many people back there, and the fish seem to know it.

3/23/04 My main computer crashed, so I'm using my laptop to update the report. It's more difficult, however, with the absence of certain software; so it might be a week before I postanother report.

I guided Rick Kopenheffer and Barry Skaggs again on Saturday and Sunday. We expected a better weather day on Saturday, but we woke up to cloudy and windy conditions. I suggested we wait until 8:00 to go out, and fish the sun, which was forecast to appear by the afternoon.

We hit a couple of west-side locales, as usual, then ran into a real prize -- tailing pods under birds. There were three separate pods of about 20 reds apiece driving shrimp to the surface where the laughing gulls were picking them off. I was pleased that the guys could see this spectacle. At any given moment, five to 15 tails were exposed in an area only about 25 square feet. As I poled downwind to them, I gave the guys my little speech: "The fish are moving, so don't let them get upwind of you. Don't cast until you can put your fly in the tails. If the fish don't react, they haven't seen your fly."

With that, they slipped overboard and began stalking  the same pod that was only about 100 feet from the staked Curlew. It took them a while to get their flies in the fish, but Rick finally scored with a hookup. The pod blew up, leaving Barry with only muddy water to contemplate. But the pod reassembled 100 feet away, so Barry shot off in their direction as Rick fought a very large red. Unfortunately, the fly pulled out after about 10 minutes. The guys proceeded to chase two more pods, getting a total of five strikes and two hooked fish, but...no landed fish. It's not unusual to lose redfish that you hook in a tailing pod. They see the fly only when it's inches from their heads, and they grab it instantly and run.  Unlike a single red in clearer water that will follow the fly, overtake it, and inhale it deeply, the podding red will often slash at the fly, and get barely hooked.

The promised sun never materialized, but we found a lot of reds along a bank that had been there on Friday. We had lots of shots -- but only at 15 feet from the boat, once the fish had seen us. Later, we visited a remote west-side venue where found a few reds in nine inches of water. They would track upwind, and provide heartstopping shots. Barry was the lucky one in this venue: The reds seemed to find him.

In between excursions to the Bay, the guys fished for trout under the lights. Assisted by our cats, Snook and Butter Butt, Barry managed to land quite a few nice trout.

On Sunday, we went back to the same spot, and flushed a bunch of reds as we entered the lagoon. We stopped, and immediately saw a "sweeping" pod of reds. A few birds were following the fish around, but the wind was too low to keep the gulls aloft. Still, the reds were in such shallow water that they remained visible most of the time. The guys spread out and walked down to them. At one point, the pod turned around and swam right between them. I was yelling, "Cast to their heads, not their wakes," but the fish slipped through unscathed.

We left the area after ascertaining that there were very few fish to be found, and headed to the spot where I'd found a tailing school three days before. We poled quietly into the area, with Rick in the casting basket. Finally, we spotted a pod of about 6 fish, rolling in the morning sunlilght. Unfortunately, the fly fell short, and the pod dispersed. So we got off the boat, and waded into the area. Barry had three shots at singles, but no hookups.

Time was running out, so we headed back to a bank that we'd fished the past two days. Finally the clouds had cleared, and we had perfect conditions for sight casting. As soon as we poled into the area, we saw small pods working along the bank. Rather than spooking them with the boat, I suggested that the guys wade, even though the bottom was less than firm. Wading between them, I helped the guys spot the fish, and finally Rick hooked up after following two reds for several minutes. Again, the fly came out! Fortunately, a big red swam by Barry and headed for Rick while he was still licking his wounds, and this time Rick scored big time. We released the fish without measuring it, but it was between 27 and 28 inches long, by my estimation.

Rick and Barry faced tough conditions, except for the last day, but they really seemed to enjoy fishing the "Mother Lagoon." Kathy and I have spoken to seven fly fishing clubs from southern California, and hosted members from most of them. They all seem to share a real enthusiasm for the Laguna Madre.

3/19/04 I wish I could say that we were catching a lot of fish, but that's just not true. A combination of  "first-timers," poor lighting, and windy, spring conditions has resulted in lots of seen fish, but not many caught fish.

Yesterday, I guided Glen Peters from Austin, who is an experienced fly fisher, but suffers from macular degeneration. And those of you who have fished the Lower Laguna, or any saltwater sightcasting venue, know how important seeing fish is in the total equation. At 80, he has a lot of courage to take on a fishery known for its toughness in the springtime. Still, we did our best. By 8:00, I'd stopped into two west-side venues, and hadn't seen anything much. I went to a third place, known for hosting podding reds in March and April, and we plowed through a whole school in about 15 inches of water. I shut down, and poled downwind for about 100 yards, and then spotted a tailing pod of half a dozen fish. Glen could not see them, but his wife Helen and I tried to direct his cast. The pod blew up, and I decided that the only way to approach these fish was to wade. As we got ready to wade, another pod appeared about 50 yards from the boat. We slipped over the side, and waded -- with difficulty, given the soft bottom -- toward the pod. Well, it disappeared before we could get there. As we stood surveying the water, I looked back toward the boat, and saw a school tailing en masse about 50 yards downwind of the Curlew. I went back and got the boat, floated it over the Glen, and picked him up.  We drifted close to the school, and resumed our wade. As usual, they moved away, but kept tailing happily. Then some pods appeared nearby. One came within 25 feet of us, but Glen could not see them, and they did not see the fly, which fell two feet short.

Henry Bone was fishing nearby, and picked off a 28" red out of a school of about 300 reds that swung onto the white sand only briefly before returning to deeper water. Still, it was slim pickings all day.

I guided Rick Kopenheffer and Barry Skaggs from Los Angeles today, and will be taking them out tomorrow and Sunday, as well. The day started off with the two conditions that we hate to see -- wind and clouds. We did our hop-scotching up the west shoreline with very little success, then shifted to the sand. Joined by regular Kingfisher guest, Henry Bone, we covered a few dozen square miles of our favorite "white sand" area, and found hardly any fish. Before I continue in my account, let me fill you in on an interesting Henry Bone story.

Two days ago, I was guiding out on the sand. Henry was south of me about 2 miles. I called him on the phone to see what he was seeing. He said he'd just landed a 7 3/4 pound trout, by foul-hooking it! He saw it in about 10 inches of water, and presented his fly over and over. Then, realizing that something was wrong, he cast over its back and foul-hooked it. The fish shot off, but Henry was able to land it. It was very fat, Henry said. He went to release it, and it just went belly up. He figured it had been sick, and perhaps dying when he found it, and now it looked hopeless. He said he'd left the fish swimming upside down in circles.

I suggested that I come over and take some pictures of the fish. Henry readily agreed, and said he'd go back and find the fish. Meanwhile, as I prepared to start the motor, I caught sight of two huge redfish swimming by, followed a few second later by a dozen big trout. I called Henry to tell him that I'd better not interrupt my guiding, and he filled me in with the "rest of the story."

He found the fish okay, and looked it over again. He said that it looked like it had some grass in its throat, so he reached to pull it out, and found himself on the tail end of a 15" inch mullet! He slowly removed it, and the trout's stomach collapsed like a balloon. He laid the bi fish in the water, and it began to swim off! We were all happy about that.

Back to today. Rick and Barry and I headed west again to look for the elusive fish. Finally, while poling near Three Islands, we began to see a lot of reds in shallow water. Even without the direct sun and clear water, the reds showed up nicely -- but only once we'd pulled within 15-20 feet of them. Rick and Barry did their best to get the fly to them in time, but it was their first day, and it's tough regardless to get a fly to a fish that will spook in two second.

We all felt better getting 15-20 shots at nice reds, so we headed back to the sand. the sand "action" can turn on instantly, and tends to get better in the afternoon, at least in the early spring. Well, we found some intermittent redfish, some of which were following sting rays. We had a few great shots, but again, no hooked fish. Fortunately, the guys came for three days. Unlike some of my clients, who go home skunked after a "warm up" day, Barry and Rick are poised for success, now that they've been stung by the Mother Lagoon. You've got to pay your dues, right?

3/17/04 Sorry that I haven't posted a report for a while. We have been busy getting ready for the season, including speaking at the Shallow Water Show in Austin this past weekend. But I guided today, and will be with clients for the next four days. There's some interesting news to report, and I'll upload it just as soon as I get a moment. But suffice to say that it was a beautiful sight to see 50 reds tailing in unison today. The shrimp have returned to the flats, and we should see a lot more tailing pods and schools on the west side. Henry Bone caught a 7 3/4 lb trout today on the sand. Actually, he foul hooked it as it was choking to death. He pulled a 15 inch mullet out of its mouth, and revived it! He's "in good" with the trout now, having done his good deed for the year. Needless to say, he's heading back to the same spot tomorrow to fish for the dozens of big trout that wouldn't take his fly today. So am I! More later.

3/5/04 Yesterday, the wind blew from the southeast from 35-40 mph, but this morning it was almost calm. I fooled around the house until late morning, and then called Richard Weldon -- an old friend and new guide who, along with Skipper Ray, will be working with our non-fly fishing clients this season.  I asked Richard if he wanted to do some fly fishing, and he was at our house within an hour with his new 8 wt. Temple Fork TiCr. I grabbed my 6 wt. TiCr and we headed for the bay.

The tides are much higher than they have been. So, instead of heading south where we've been doing most of our fishing, I checked out some westside locales as we headed north for the first time in a couple of weeks. We found reds in two places, but the water was off color, so we kept heading north. The north wind increased as we went, turning a nearly calm day into a fresh cold front. It wasn't cold at all, however, and we ended wading wet in water that felt around 70-75 degrees.

I pulled up along a bank, hoping to find some reds with their backs out of the water. Sure enough, we went head-to-head with one big red that was showing a full inch of his back. Richard tried to get the fly to him, but the wind had come up and the  red went crosswind to us. After passing another red in the 27+ range, I staked the boat, and suggested that we wade the bank. A red was already approaching, and Richard couldn't get in the water soon enough, so...I grabbed my rod and jumped in barefoot and headed to the shoreline. The big red saw the Chartreuse MDF on the second cast and inhaled it. Unfortunately, the fly popped loose after a short, blistering run.

I urged Richard to continue along the bank, and I went ashore and ran 150 yards upwind, and began to wade the same water we'd just floated through. Within a minute, a red showed along the shoreline, and I was able to hook and land him. Meanwhile, another red was milling around me with its back out, so I called Richard, and waved him over. He went upwind of me, and began wading the same bank. I hooked and landed another red that was almost 28", and then Richard got one on the same fly that was around 26". The water was far from clear, but the reds looked postively pink out there in that off color water, just like this photo shows.
I took the Curlew over to another bank to give Richard some room, and hooked up on another big red that was cruising, back out, in about 12 inches of water. The 27 1/2" red just about wore me out on my 6 wt. Indeed, I brought him in after a ten-minute battle, and reached for the leader. Well, the fish suddenly saw me for the first time, and within seconds, he had taken all of my line, and was 30 feet into my backing! I finally got him back in,  and took a photo of him on the shoreline. When I released him, he swam off like he hadn't even exerted himself, which is typical this time of year when the water is still cool.

Meanwhile, Richard landed another red while I eating my lunch aboard the Curlew. We ended up hooking seven and landing five reds, and all but one were over 24 inches. We headed in, and realized that we'd done quite well given the conditions: The bay was pretty muddy the whole way back. However, Sunday looks like it's going to be one of those magical days. Kathy and I will be back out there, in preparation for a dizzying series of charters, beginning next week.

2/18/04 Today was the third "perfect" fly fishing day in a row. What a relief after several weeks of windy and cloudy conditions! We left the dock just before 9:00, planning to "fish the sun." This time of year, tailing action is sporadic due to the water temperature (57 degrees yesterday, but much warmer today). So we waited until the sun was high enough for sight casting.

We headed south, given the fact that the tides were so low, and it's usually better to fish south of the Arroyo in extreme low water. I poled Kathy for while, but we were spooking so many fish, that we decided to do what we like to do best -- wade. With fly fishing guides Eric Glass to the west of us, and Jim Stewart to the east, we staked the  Curlew and began wading downwind, leaving our puppy Lilly on board to enjoy her first day on the boat. Fortunately, the conditions were ideal -- light southeast winds, and not a cloud in the sky.

The scene was a classic fly fishing scenario: The water was low and clear, and fish were quite visible on the turtle grass bottom. We were able to get pretty close to them -- 30 or 40 feet -- before they turned; and then they moved off slowly, as they often do when it's been cold. We had to put the fly right on top of them -- inches from their heads. Otherwise, they didn't seem to see it. Most of the time, we were stalking singles, but there was a milling herd out there that would come by every once in a while.

Kathy had her personal best day for redfish -- seven redfish up to 26 inches, and a big trout that came loose at her feet. All the fish were caught on our favorite subsurface shrimp/crab imitation -- the Mother's Day fly, shown below. The fish were as aggressive as we've ever seen them, which is remarkable given the temperature of the water. I lost most of mine (on a barbless hook -- the hook's fault, of course) including one fish that would have gone close to 30 inches, but I was just as happy watching Kathy do so well.

2/17/04  It seems that the winter is over, and we have entered the glory days of mid-February. Skipper just called and said that giant trout were all over one of our favorite spots. As for the redfish action,  guides Eric Glass and Bill Hagen caught 18 reds yesterday fishing together. Where am I? At the computer, of course, but tomorrow Kathy and I will be out there, trying to repeat the big trout success of last February. Last year, President's Day was unforgettable, reaping us the FFSW cover shot of an 8 lb 2 oz. trout.

We guided this past Sunday, which was a transitional day, with northeast winds and temps in the 50s. Very unpleasant, but our clients Joe and Melanie Mitchell from San Antonio had a great time, anyway. Joe brought Melanie down, hoping to help her catch her first red on a fly. We warned them about the weather, but they wanted to come, regardless. We found a lot of reds in shallow water -- and saw a few big trout, too -- but the wind was from the wrong direction, so the fish were usually on their way by the time the fly got there. Still, she did remarkably well for her first effort.

Today is a perfect fly fishing day -- full sun and low wind -- but we had prior obligations, so...we're champing at the bit to get out there first thing tomorrow morning. I'll let you know how we do, of course. This is a great time to fish -- after the "stacked" cold fronts of mid-January to mid-Feburary, and before the March winds.
 

2/4/04 I wish I had some great news for you, but the last few days have been challenging at best. Over the past several years, Kathy and I have noticed that late December and early January offers the best winter fishing, but by mid-January, the cold fronts begin the "stack up," so that there's little time for recovery in between. By early March, most of the fronts stop reaching this far south. That's the good news. The bad news is that the low pressure associated with the spring fronts suck the wind and moisture off the Gulf, resulting in strong blustery conditions on the Lower Laguna until May or later.

Still, there are those days in early February that are near-perfect. We try to seize these opportunities whenever they arise.

This past Sunday, we thought we had one of those magical days. Russell Myers and his wife Becky from Ft. Smith, Arkansas, joined us Saturday night.  Calm winds and a cloudless sky greeted us at dawn the next morning, and we were all convinced that we had a perfect fly fishing day ahead of us.

The tides were extremely low at daybreak -- which usually signals me to head south -- but the dead calm conditions prompted me to head east of Green Island. I was hoping to find tailing fish. The reds were thick in the glassy. 15-inch water, along with tons of mullet. But when we stopped and let the water settle, we saw only a few half-hearted tailing fish. And they were so spooky! I think the moon was the culprit. We'd had a near-full moon in a cloudless sky the night before, and the fish were probably full from all-night feeding. So we headed north to check some of my favorite low-water spots. The tides were so low, however, that nary a fish could be found.

So, we headed south for Cullens and Stovers and beyond. Our optimism faded a few shades as a cloudbank began to block the morning sunlight. I cringed, because I knew that the "perfect day" was quickly evaporating.

Still, we found plenty of fish in shallow-enough water. Whenever the sun would emerge, we'd see reds and get shots. But it wasn't long before the clouds consumed our light. After a few hours of that, Becky opted to go back in. So we took her to the dock, re-gassed the boat, and took off again.

We headed south, and encountered the same problems, but the cloulds over the east side -- the white sand -- were burning off. So we headed for the light,  and found that the edge of the sand was under full sun. What a beautiful sight! The crystalline water was so pretty, with a Carribean-like green tint to it. I poled Russell along the edge of the grass, and had only one shot at a red in half an hour. The fish just weren't there. Noticing that the clouds were burning off over the west side, we ran back, hoping that the fast-declining, afternoon sun would still afford us the visibility we needed.

There were fewer fish, but we did get a few shots before the angle of the sun defeated us. Russell managed to get one sizeable red to flare on the kite spoon, but when he stripped, there was nothing there.

We headed for a flat that I've been fishing with great results, whenever the tide is at the right level. We poled into the area, and could see mud boils all around us. The water was off-color from all the mullet, but the low sun managed to catch the tails of several crabbing redfish. We had some great action, but the conditions were only marginal in support of sight casting. Again, we had some near hook-ups, but in the end the perfect day had become like so many other winter days -- a tease. Russell, who enjoyed "storybook" fishing when he came down in August, and knows how good it can be on the LLM, was not disappointed, and left with promises to return in the summer.

We have just rescheduled the next four days. Another cold front is on its way. We are always willing to guide fly fishers in the winter months, because we know how good it can be. But we are the first to recommend rescheduling, because we don't want our first-time clients to be discouraged by the often-teasing, winter face of the Lower Laguna.

1/29/04 I attended the Boat Show in San Antonio last weekend, helping Tim and Leslie at the NewWater Boatworks booth. Between that, teaching, and poor weather, we've not been out in over a week and a half. However, we have a lot fishing ahead of us in the next couple of weeks, weather permitting.

I guided Dr. Mike Tripp from Oregon yesterday. He'd fished with Eric Glass the day before, and they had faced tough conditions. Sure, it was sunny, but windy from the wrong direction. In the winter, the sun is very low on the southern horizon, so when the wind blows from the north, you are blinded whenever you fish downwind, and the fish can see you even better than usual. Consequently, Eric found lots of fish for Mike, but most of the fish were spooked by the time Mike could see them and cast to them.

I hoped that we'd have a better day for Mike, but we had a different set of less-than-ideal problems. The wind had turned to the southeast, but it was totally cloudy. Sometimes when you have thin clouds, you can still sight cast; but the clouds were thick, and building all day.

We almost didn't go out, but since it wasn't too windy or cold, we opted to fish. Since the tides were so low, I figured that the northwest bay would be too shallow for the hoards of reds, which have been feeding on baby crabs up that way. So we went south, and found lots of fish south of Cullens Point. The reds were thick in the slightly deeper water, but they were also out in water that was less than a foot deep. Poling through areas where it was almost too shallow to float, we saw plenty of nice reds rolling (and a couple tailing) in the super skinny water. However, without sunshine -- or even bright, diffuse light -- Mike couldn't see the fish in time to present the fly. He made a couple of good presentations, in spite of the conditions, but didn't score. Later, we went north and found a lot of reds mixed with sheepshead north of Green Island, and so Mike resorted to blindcasting spoon flies and weighted Mother's Day Flies as we drifted downwind. I was surprised that Mike didn't catch a couple, because we were floating through one mud boil after another for over an hour. Once again, he managed to spot a couple of reds in time to cast, but they were heading upwind of us, making it difficult, at best, to score. To his immense credit, Mike was completely happy with the scene.

Kathy and I were cocked and ready to go after giant trout this morning, as  we've been seeing them in some of the "regular" winter trout venues. The tides are so low that the big fish can be seen pushing water, even though they rarely tail in the wintertime, for some reason. However, the cold front came through earlier than expected, so we cancelled those plans.

I'll be guiding our regular client Russell Myers and his wife from Arkansas on Sunday. It looks like we might have the right sun and the right wind, finally. My fingers are crossed.

1/16/04  We have hosted fly fishers for the last five days! The good news about winter fly fishing (See our latest article in Tide Magazine, titled "Fishing the Texas Tropics") must be getting out.

Last Sunday, Alan Schoenbaum and his son James, along with his father -in-law Jim Kuper, came down for one day of fly fishing. They'd planned for two, but we discouraged them from fishing on Saturday.  Sunday dawned cold and calm.  As the first day after a cold front, Sunday was beautiful, but the fishing was tough. The tides were unusually high, the slight wind was from the "wrong direction," the water was off colored, and the fish were everywhere...but lethargic. Outwardly, it was a perfect day, but a closer analysis revealed that it was, true to form, a transitional day.

The guys brought two kayaks along. Fortunately, the Curlew handled all four guys (hey, I'm a guy) and the two kayaks with its usual grace. But it just wasn't a wading or kayaking day for fly fishers. We needed more elevation to see the fish in the deep, off-colored water, and we didn't resort to casting from the boat until the sun was nearly too low to support sight casting. Still, James -- who had committed to fly fishing all day, and only turned to spin casting as a last resort -- caught a 27-inch red from the kayak, while his dad and I were getting shot after shot at crabbing redfish in the rapidly diminishing sunlight.

We could have done better taking turns from the boat, but that's hindsight, and the guys seemed to have a lot of fun, anyway.

Tom Biddle and his brother-in-law Mike from Ft. Worth came down for Monday and Tuesday fishing. Kathy and I couldn't guide them, but we hosted them while our friend Rick Hartmann took them out. Tom and Mike had two glorious days  -- low southeast winds, and pretty good sunshine. We were at UT-Pan American while the guys were fishing, but Tom left a glowing summary of their successes: "Thanks for your hospitality. We'll be back! Redfish were everywhere, and we caught a bunch." What more do you need to know?

On Wednesday, Mick McCoy from Austin, and his buddy Stan from Tennessee, came in midday. I tried to get them to come earlier, since we could see that the glorious conditions of Monday and Tuesday were on the decline. Still, they arrived in time to hit the bay before noon, and head to the spot were we have been finding redfish gorging themselves on baby blue crabs. As soon as we came off plane, we could see that the reds were in a feeding frenzy. For about two hours, we had shot after shot. But our window of opportunity began to shut on us. Stronger wind, and thick clouds turned a very good day into a blowout.

The next day dawned cloudy and breezy. I always cringe when I look out the window and see the trees blowing beneath a gray sky.  Still, we headed out, hoping for the best. The fish were still there, but not in the same numbers. Nor were they feeding as actively. We got a lot of opportunities, but not of the same quality as the day before: that is, we'd see the fish too late, and they'd spook before the guys could deliver the fly.

When I got in last night, I took a look at the weather forecast, and called our old client Russell Myers from Arkansas, and pleaded with him not to come down for the weekend. A fresh cold front will be blowing through, and the conditions won't be good until next week. Wisely, he decided to reschedule.

12/26/03 An old client, Dr. Dan Casso from Houston, came down to fish with us on the 26th and 27th. The weather forecast called for a decent fly fishing day on the 26th, but the 27th looked iffy at best -- 20-30 mph southeast winds. So I suggested to Dan that we fish all we could on the 26th, because the 27th could be a blowout. Meanwhile, Kathy and I decided to  cancel her three-person charter for the 27th: With such strong winds, it's nearly impossible to pole  a boat with three people aboard, and the wading prospects were dismal, at best.

I opted to head south with Dan, since the super low tides had been made the areas around Stover's Point, in particular, a very attractive venue over the past couple of weeks. However, we swung southeast onto the east flats on the way, and ran into a lot of fish. We poled there, and got a couple of shots, but the mullet were spooking way out ahead of us, and turning the reds away before we could reach them. So we resumed our journey southward. Unfortunately, a cloudbank greeted us just as we reached Cullens Bay, so I turned around and ran back north, toward the remaining blue sky.  We tried a few spots on the way, but the lack of consistent sunshine made finding visible fish difficult for a couple of hours. Finally, I decided to head for a northwest flat for the first time in a month. As soon as we reached the "sweet spot" of the area, characterized by a trough adjoining the Intracoastal, reds scattered in all directions. They were back in force after weeks of extremely low tides.

Meanwhile,  the clouds were burning off, leaving us in a perfect sight casting scenario -- a 12 mph southeast wind, with the sun to our backs. And the fish were present in such numbers like I've rarely seen them. Over the course of about four hours, Dan had about 100 shots at single reds, and small pods, that were "crabbing" upwind toward us, heads down. It was easy to get within a few feet of most of them before the boat spooked them, giving Dan plenty of time to get his cast off. Using a kite spoon, he proceeded to catch 10 reds on the kite spoon before it fell apart. So we replaced it with a weighted chartreuse Mother's Day fly. Dan ended up hooking sixteen, and landing 13 up to 28 1/8 inches. It was an awesome day! It was Dan's first "double digit" day -- a rare event for any fly fisher on the Lower Laguna.

Given the forecast for strong winds the next day, I suggested that we make a decision the next morning. I got up at 6:30, and saw that it was windy and cloudy. So I called Dan and told him that it looked like a probable blowout. Even so, we agreed to touch base a couple  of hours later, and make a final decision. Well...the clouds burned off, at least long enough for me to call Dan and give him a thumbs up. He left McAllen, and was at Kingfisher around 9:30.

Needless to say, we headed back to the same flat that had produced so well for us on Friday. But conditions had deteriorated: It was mostly cloudy by the time we arrived, and the wind was already about 15 mph, and rising.  We used the intermittent sun strategically: We'd pole in the sunlight, and then stake the boat when the clouds came over. Over the next few hours, I probably stopped the boat 30 times to wait for the sun to return. (Take a look at the photo to see just how cloudy it was!)

The redfish were still in the area, and suprisingly, we were able to get dozens of shots from the boat.  Dan was getting better and better at seeing the reds in the less-than-ideal conditions, and getting off quick casts at fish that were no more than 20 feet away. Before we declared the situation hopeless -- that is, with winds over 22 mph, and not a speck of blue sky to be seen -- Dan had landed eight more reds up to 27 1/8 inches! It was remarkable day -- a testimony to what you can do in poor conditions with the right angler (terminally gung ho), the right guide (willing to indulge his fantasies), and a passel of redfish.

By the way, the west side of the LLM is full of small crabs, and that's what the redfish are gorging themselves on. (Dan kept one fish, and we inspected its stomach.) Every time I'd retrieve the sea anchor, it would be covered with small crabs hanging on for dear life. Although the reds were feeding on the crabs, they didn't hesitate to take the kite spoon, and the weighted Mother's Day Fly. In two days and over 100 presentations, I didn't see one rejection of the fly.  From my experience, it is erroneous to believe that redfish "key" on the dominant food source, like a trout in a stream, and ignore anything that does not resemble that food source. While redfish may be feeding predominantly on crabs, or shrimp, or fin fish, they are just as willing to eat anything that crosses their path, as long as it's reasonable and doesn't offend them. So if you think you have to imitate the "hatch," and you do, then your belief will be reinforced by your success! But if you use something else -- at least down here, and most of the time -- it will soon become you favorite fly. Because... bottom line... redfish are opportunistic and rarely reject flies. They do however, reject most poor presentations, as well as the sight of anglers and boats.

It was a great two days to finish off a wonderful year of fly fishing on the Lower Laguna. We look forward to returning from a short trip out east, and taking advantage of the stellar winter fishing that we've been having.

12/24/03 You probably won't be surprised to hear that Kathy and I decided to spend Christmas Eve on the water.  Joined by our next-door neighbor, Rex White, we left the dock about 11:30 a.m., and headed south, where we've been finding lots of fish on the flats in the afternoon.  We found a few reds in water shallow enough for tailing, but the tide was still going out, and the fish were pretty lethargic. We waded for a while, and got a couple of shots, but decided to scout around and find where the fish were holding in wait of the incoming tide. We didn't have to go far, but we had to go to slightly deeper water. Indeed, as the shallow water increased to about 30 inches deep, reds and trout were suddently everywhere. We came off plane, and floated to a standstill over a dozen trout from 18-24 inches long. Every pothole (clear area in the grass) had at least one trout in it. So we did something we rarely do: we blind casted as we waded. Since the wind was negligible, we spread out in three directions, and a casted spoon fly (Rex), a "kite" spoon fly (Kathy) or a weighted Mother's Day flies (me). Rex started by catching two trout, and Kathy and I followed soon after.  Kathy had the "hot" rod, though, catching three trout over 20 inches, and a 25-inch red. She had just started using a Temple Fork TiCr six weight, and she said it performed flawlessly, or rather -- I would say -- it helped her perform flawlessly. After catching two smaller trout on a weighted Mother's Day, I switched to a kite fly, too, and caught a larger trout, and missed a couple of more. We moved a while later, and waded in a shallower area, where I landed one red before we headed in.

A member of the Kingfisher web board asked me to describe the kite fly, and how to tie it. My high-quality digital camera bit the dust a few weeks ago when I dropped it into the water, but I got some lesser-quality shots of the kite fly in hopes that it will convey the general shape of the fly. As you can see, it's a basic spoon fly, tied with auto body mylar tape, available from any auto parts store.

I proceed as follows: First I cut a diamond or kite shaped piece of mylar tape, about an inch and 1/8 from tip to tip. (Why this shape? It's much easier to cut a perfectly symmetrical kite shape than it is to cut an oval. Whether left- or right-handed, you will always cut a slightly asymmetrical curve. So why not make it easy on yourself by cutting four straight lines. It works just as well.
    Then I remove the backing, and lay the hook -- a Gamakatsu size 2 B10S -- against the sticky side, such that the top of the kite shape, or the larger angle, wraps around the hook bend about 1/3 of the way. The other end -- the more acute angle -- terminates right behind the eye. Then I tie down the tips, fore and aft, with tying thread.  Then I mix five-minute expoxy with gold or red fine glitter, and apply it to the underside of the fly, in order to bond the tape with the hook, and to give it weight. You can apply it lightly for a fly that you want to sink slowly, or heavily for a fly that you'll use in deeper water. Then I put the flies on my turner (driven by a rotisserie motor) to let the epoxy cure. Only after the epoxy has hardened, I coat the outside of the tape with Sally Hansen's Hard-as-Nails, or for a more permanent finish, you can apply a thin coating of epoxy. Then I tie in a inline weedguard of about 50-60 pound mono.  If that's confusing, give me a call at (956) 738-4350 and I'll talk you through it.

12/22/03  The tides have fallen to critical low levels -- so low, in fact, that most of the areas that we fish during the fall are now almost dry. Payton's Bay is impassable, and the east side is less than a foot deep except along the edges of ICW, the Saucer, the Three Islands' basin, and the Green Island basin. Flats that are usually too deep to fish -- such as Gaswell Flats -- are now at an ideal depth for tailing reds.  Water temperatures are lower than usual, as we have had a succession of cold fronts. However, the fishing has been superb in between the fronts.

Steve and Todd Novak came down last Thursday and fished Thursday afternoon and all day Friday. Thursday was a gem. Hardly any wind, and full sun. We left the dock about 1:00 -- later than they'd hoped, but that had to pick up fishing licenses on the way. We went north and east, finding abundant fish on the edge of the Saucer. We stopped there, and  the guys  wade fished to tailing reds for a couple of hours. There was a problem, however. Schools of sheepshead were milling about, and would spook as soon as we approached on foot. They would blow through the reds, and the tails would promptly disappear. Todd made some great presentations to tailing fish, but -- so typically -- the reds never saw the fly.

We ran into a school of reds in off-colored water, and blind casted spoon flies from the boat for a while. But I pulled the plug on this effort after a few minutes, since I was sure we'd find visible fish elsewhere. Heading south and east, we finished up east of the Three Islands, where Steve and Todd both landed nice reds.

We expected Friday to be a better day, but a mild cold front blew through Thursday night. Leaving the dock in our warmest clothing and waders, we fished south from the mouth of the Arroyo (as I usually do after the tides fall to critical levels in December). We found fish everywhere we went, but the north wind was blowing us into the sun, making it hard to see the fish. We waded in several places, to no avail, before finding tailing reds on a flat that I rarely fish except during the lowest tides of mid-summer and mid-winter, since it's usually too deep for sight casting. Some big reds were tailing there, so the guys stalked them for quite a while. Steve came up with this nice 26" red on a Mother's Day fly. It was a tough day overall, because the wind and the sun were opposed.

Another father and son team -- Charlie and Hunter Granstaff of San Antonio -- arrived on Friday afternoon, and fished with me on Saturday and Sunday. Having fly fished extensively for bass in central Texas, and for trout in the Southwest, they were ready to try  their hand at fly fishing for redfish. Although it was dead calm on Saturday morning, it was in the low 40s, too. So I called the guys on the intercom and told them to sleep in. We left the dock at 8:30, and headed south. I intended to spend the whole day there, since the fishing prospects have dimmed to the north of the mouth of the Arroyo, due to the falling tides. We headed southeast, and found tons of reds and trout in about two feet of crystal clear water. But the sun was a bit low to see them easily. We poled a while, but could not get close to them. So we waded. Hunter hooked a sheepshead, but that was all we did on the east side.

I knew that conditions along the Refuge shoreline could bring the reds into the shallows, but not until afternoon. About 11, we headed west, but stopped on a flat where reds were tailing all around. However, the mullet were so thick that they'd move ahead of us, announcing our presence -- just as the sheepshead had done two days earlier when the Novaks were fishing with me. So we gave up that fruitless endeavor, and finally headed for our "appointment" with the reds that were scheduled (in my brain, at least) to arrive on the flats by afternoon. When we planed into the area, the reds were, as yet,  congregated in water that was slightly too deep for sight casting, so I opted to pole the edge of the redfish/mullet hoard, and sight cast to the few fish that were already feeding in a foot of water. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and warming to a comfortable 65 degrees. With 8 mph wind to our backs, I poled into a turtle grass meadow where great herons were lined up like marble statues ahead of us, Every once in a while, a solitary redfish would explode on a baitfish, or chase a shrimp across the mirror-like surface.  Since the fish were spread out, we stayed on the boat and moved from fish to fish. The action was regular enough to keep us interested. We'd encounter a single red every 50-100 yards. After making several excellent presentations to fish that had already turned in response to sensing the boat, Hunter hooked and landed a 28 3/4" red. Needless to say, we were all ecstatic. As we were photographing and releasing the big fish, Hunter looked behind the boat, and said, "Aren't those reds?" Indeed they were! Three pods of reds were coming out of the deeper water right for us. Not only that, but we could see other groups of reds and mullet streaming slowly toward the shallows. Charlie and Hunter piled out of the boat, and waded toward the incoming fish.  For the next couple of hours, the guys enjoyed classic sight casting. At one point, Hunter was hooked up while is father was on his knees in a foot of water, casting to a pod of a dozen fish. It was one of those great fly fishing moments on the Lower Laguna.

12/17/03 This morning dawned clear and cold. Indeed, it was about 40 degrees last night. So Kathy and I waited until almost midday before we headed out for the last personal fishing we would be able to do in a while. We start four days of guided fishing tomorrow, and we have nine charters in five days starting the day after Christmas (using two boats). So we thought we'd better seize the moment and go after those big trout that haunt our dreams.

As we came off plane, we were greeted with a strange sight. Yes, there were fish all around -- redfish, that is -- but we were more intrigued by what was happening in the sky. We noticed a few wisps of spider web blowing past the boat. Looking up, we were stunned to see that spider webs were literally everywhere, and as high as you could see. We could see wisps of web drifting 100 yards overhead, and filling all the spaces in between. The webs began to collect on the boat, and our rods were soon covered by the filaments. Then, we discovered that there were spiders in the webs! Tiny spiders were riding the wind currents aboard the pieces of web. I've never seen such a thing! How did they get up in the sky? Email me if you know how this happens.

Finally we turned to the business at hand, but spotted only redfish in the water around the boat. So we decided to leave the reds and head for the flat where the big trout hang out. Planing over 10 inches of water, we spotted a very few large wakes, so -- hoping they they were big trout -- we shut down. Fishing fore and aft, we drifted slowly into the area.  After drifting for a while without seeing anything, we spotted a couple of tailing reds. Kathy was fiddling with her gear, so I hopped off the boat and went off in pursuit of the reds. I lost them, but a while later, I saw a wake approaching, and casted my Deceiver ahead of it. The red in the photo took it instantly. After landing it, we took some photos of it, and then released it. It was "only" 27 inches long, but it sure was fat, wasn't it?

We decided to move a while later, since there were so few fish in the area. After going about 200 yards, we saw a huge wake coming, so we shut down and simply gawked as a trout that must have been 32 inches long cruised by. I'd seen a huge one in the same area a couple of days ago (while guiding), and it's not unusual this time of the year. We'll be fishing for them until the higher tides of March make it harder to locate them. The key to catching one is...paying your dues, and just showing up day after day. No one asks Bud Rowland how many "dry" days he spends waiting for that world record. What separates Bud from the rest of us is his sheer, undivided commitment. I've fished with him several times, and he simply does not give up, just because trout are so hard to find, and harder to catch. It's rare to find that kind of commitment on or off the water, and that's why so few big trout are caught on a fly.

Heading back toward the Arroyo, we checked the east side, and found so many redfish east of the Saucer that we shut down and waded. The northeast wind was shifting to the east, and slowly dying, so we had glassy conditions. We stalked a few reds near the Boiler, but they were as spooky as they ever get in dead calm conditions. So after a few fruitless shots at tailing reds,  we headed home. As we planed along the edge of the sand, we ran over hundreds of redfish, and some trout. If the sun had been higher, we would have stopped and waded into them, but the glare on the water at 4:30 in December makes it hard to sight cast. So we left them alone, and went in.

12/13/03 A week ago, we hosted Tom Reid and his two buddies from San Angelo. I called Tom the day before he arrived and warned him that the weather looked iffy at best.  "We're coming unless there's a hurricane or an anthrax threat." Given the forecast for a strong cold front, I think most people would have jumped at the chance to reschedule, but the three doctors were aching to fish, obviously. So we did. Friday was very difficult, but Saturday was a milder transition day. There weren't any fish on the flats in the early morning, but by midday, we were finding them north and south of the mouth of the Arroyo. Take a look at how Tom and Dr. Gene were dressed, if you want some idea of how cold it was.

Yesterday (Sunday) and the day before were about as perfect for fly fishing as you can find at any time of the year. Bruce Hathaway from Victoria chose to fish with us for his 40th birthday present, which is quite a compliment. Bruce and his wife Sherri are "old" clients and friends, who have done increasingly well every time they've come down. Last fall, Bruce caught his largest red on a fly rod to date -- a 29 1/2" fish -- and he was hoping to beat his personal best. A tall order any time of the year, for any angler.

Saturday's sunrise provided a stunning preview of what was to come. We stopped on the Intracoastal to snap some shots of the scarlet and turquoise sky, and then proceeded toward one of my favorite spots for December and January reds. It was dead calm and we found some fish tailing, but they were almost impossible to approach. After a brief wade, I suggested we move. "We can do better than this, I'm sure," so we left tailing fish to find more fish -- a bad idea in most cases. But the tailing action has been so good in the past few weeks, that I was confident that an even better opportunity awaited us a few miles north. Minutes later, I brought the Curlew off of plane as we suddenly came upon dozens of wakes in about nine inches of water. Within minutes, tails were popping up in three directions. Since the bottom was too soft for wading, I began poling Bruce toward the frolicking reds. It was so calm, however, that I quickly took up a position on the bow, and scooted the boat toward one set of tails after another. We fished there for several hours, and were always in sight of at least a half dozen pods, not to mention the scattered singles.  Since it was dead calm, it was the best and worst of conditions. We would get within 80-90 feet of a pod, only to have them disappear -- after obviously detecting our presence. Bruce managed to get off several perfect casts after adjusting to the demanding conditions, but the reds just didn't see his fly. Switching from an unweighted Mother's Day Fly to a spoon fly, and then to a weighted Mother's Day, Bruce finally got their attention, and picked up his first redfish fly fishing from a boat -- a fine 26-inch fish.

Some of you have heard me say this before, but it certainly bears repeating from time to time: Most people don't realize how difficult it is to get a tailing redfish to see your fly. Accustomed to fishing in coldwater fisheries, or in deeper, clearer water for bonefish, most newcomers cast the fly several feet away from the redfish, thinking that they'll see it. One of things I say over and over again is, "Cast again, he'll never see the fly that far away."

Tailing redfish rarely see a fly more than two feet away in only a foot of water. Why? The water is so shallow that the sight window is small; and furthermore, the fish is looking down.

It's common to think that the redfish isn't interested in your fly if he doesn't react. If he hasn't seen the boat or you -- a big "if" -- a redfish will almost always take a fly that isn't approaching, or "ambushing" him.  In 95% of cases, if the redfish hasn't reacted, he hasn't seen the fly. If he reacts negatively, it's either because 1) he's already "turned" -- that is, already seen you and ceased his foraging, or 2) the fly has "ambushed" him.
    So, if a redfish reacts negatively, blame the fly as only a last resort. But don't stop there: If he reacts positively, credit the fly only as a last resort.A Lower Laguna redfish is opportunistic, and will take any reasonable fly if it is presented well. This fishery is not like a coldwater fishery, where you have to figure out what they're feeding on, and then imitate it. Redfish may be eating shrimp or crabs because there are a lot of them around, but they will usually eat your fly, even if it doesn't resemble the current food source. Indeed, a redfish will almost always react positively to a fly whenever he hasn't detected your presence first, or been offended by your fly's behavior.
    If you have to blame or credit something, then examine your approach first. If you do, you will improve. If you don't, you will learn nothing in the process of blaming a perfectly good fly.
    This isn't always true, of course. But it's best formula I've found for explaining the success and failure of Lower Laguna fly fishers.

    After the wind came up at midday, the tails disappeared, so Bruce and  I checked out some other venues, covering quite a few miles in the process. But we never encountered the numbers of visible fish that characterized the morning venues. Looking back, Saturday provided Bruce practice for an even better day.

    We planned to head straight for the same area the next morning, but came upon so many reds on the way that we had to stop. Again, the dead calm conditions made it nearly impossible for us to approach them from the boat, so  we waded. Bruce asked me to join him (sometimes I do, if the client is an experienced angler who doesn't need my assistance), so I grabbed my seven-weight and stepped into the 65 degree water in my lightweight Simms waders.  After landing a 26-inch red, we decided to leave the fish and continue our journey northward.  We planed over miles and miles of empty water, but when we reached the place we'd fished the day before, we began to see fish fleeing from our intrusion. I hastily shut down on the edge of the fish, and let the water settle. Again, singles and pods of tailing redfish popped up as far as we could see. Poling Bruce downwind in only 5 mph wind provided dozens of classic shots from the boat. Bruce picked up two more reds on a Mother's Day fly before the slight wind put the fish down.

    I decided to head south for about 15 miles to fish along the Atascosa Refuge shoreline; but on second thought, I swung by a flat that has been hosting big reds when the water depth and temperature has been "just right." We moved some fish as we planed onto the flat, so I looped upwind, and shut down in water that was so shallow that we had to get off the boat to float it downwind into slightly deeper water. Suddenly, we began seeing singles and doubles waking toward us in the 9-10 inch water. Bruce got off the boat and began stalking reds on a flat that was as firm as a sidewalk, and vast in its dimensions. It was a fly fisher's dream -- not a boat within miles, and redfish cruising in less than a foot of water on an easily wadeable flat. After Bruce had caught two reds in the 24-26 inch range on a chartreuse Mother's Day fly, I hiked a hundred yards off to one side, and proceeded to fly fish alongside him. I was totally out of practice, and made missed three shots at very large fish. (Hey, I didn't blame the fly, did I?) Finally, I hooked a 28-red, which fought so hard that it took me about 20 minutes to land him. Bruce yelled over, "Is that rod a five weight?" I smiled wryly. "These fish are strong this time of year."  The fly popped out of the big red's mouth as I reached to land him, but I managed to grab him by the tail as he tried to swim away! Lifting him briefly out of the water to measure him, and for Bruce to see, I released him again.
    Not to be upstaged, Bruce topped off the day with hooking a 28 1/2-inch red that had been tailing about 30 feet away from us. The big fish proceeded to run about 75 yards straight out, surprising Bruce with its power. It was my turn to needle him: "Something wrong with that rod," I inquired? About 20 minutes later, we photographed the fat redfish, and released it. It showed no signs of fatigue after the spirited battle.
    Bruce stayed in his waders all day, since it rained lightly  off and on. After changing in and out of mine,  I finally settled for wading wet by afternoon.  While the day started in the 60s, the late afternon temperature rose into the 70s, and the water exceeded 70 degrees by the time the sun set. It felt like springtime. We headed in just before dark, declaring  the two days "perfect" in every way.
    It was about as good as it gets.
 
 

12/3/03 From Saturday the 30th through today, the fly fishing has been "as good as it gets" on the Lower Laguna Madre.

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Gordon Winfree from Oregon called, saying that  he was in Houston, and wanted to fish. He'd fished for redfish in the Mosquito Lagoon of Florida, but had not caught his first red, yet. Since Kathy and I were free, we told him to come on down. Gordon arrived Friday evening for Saturday and Sunday fishing.

We left the dock at 6:30 -- our regular departure this time of year. Bundled in every piece of warm clothing we could get our hands on, we topped off the layering with our waders. It was only in the upper forties, but at 30 mph, 47 degrees feels like 20.

As I feared, there wasn't a fish on the flats yet. I told Gordon that we had to burn some time, rather than to run around burning gas, looking for a miracle. It was windless, without a cloud in the sky. "It's going to get better," I predicted. And, fortunately, I was right. We found fish after lunch --  tailing and cruising -- on a shallow, firm flat near Mansfield that was occupied only by two other wading fly fishers. Having never caught his first red on a fly, Gordon was understandably intense in his quest. The conditions couldn't have been more challenging: 12 inches of dead calm water. We waded into the area, and looked for his first targets. The wind had risen to about 12 mph, but the glassy conditions prevailed. After presenting fruitlessly to a couple of single reds, Gordon spotted a big red out of the water, back and all, about 50 yards upwind. "Do you think it's worth it to go after that one?" Gordon asked. "It's always worth it," I answered, "but you might not catch him." Gordon headed toward the fish, and I secretly regretted encouraging him to go after an upwind target. But after a few minutes, he managed to place the Mother's Day fly in front of the red, and hooked up on his first of 13 redfish taken on a fly during two days of fishing.

After breaking the ice, Gordon got better and better at the game. Landing three reds on Saturday, he went on to land 10 reds on Sunday -- all by sight casting Mother's Day flies and spoon flies from the poled Curlew. Sunday was a perfect day fly fishing day -- much warmer and sunnier than the day before. We stayed out til almost 5:00, and the fishing only improved as the sun descended. By the time we stopped, the wind was up to about 15 mph, but the reds were streaming upwind onto a vast flat, tailing as they came. Gordon distinguished himself by making two successful crosswind back-hand casts to retreating redfish at about 50 feet. It was impressive casting.

    On Monday, I guided an old client, Jim Posgate from Kerrville, who owns a place on the Arroyo. He had a friend, Bob, visiting from Alaska, who had never been fly fishing on the LLM. So we went out at 6:30, and headed toward the most productive spot we've found in the past two weeks. Shutting the motor down on a glassy flat, we were immediately rewarded by the sight of tailing reds. Jim went off on his own, while I accompanied Bob.  I think Jim caught four reds on a chartreuse Mother's Day Fly before we left that spot. Meanwhile, Bob was able to stalk and catch his first redfish on a pink VIP. Eventually, the wind came up a bit, so we headed to a spot that tends to remain glassy, even in moderate winds. The tailing action was even better there. Jim went on the land two more reds, and Bob missed one and broke off on another.
    It was after midday, and privately I thought the fishing was over. The wind had come up, and the tailing action had stopped. But since the guys had opted for a full day, I suggested we head east and south, and check out some areas that I'd not fished in several weeks.
    After ascertaining that the white sand was devoid of fish, we stopped in an area near Rattlesnake Island, and got out to wade downwind.  I suggested that perhaps the reds would be cruising upwind and tailing as they went, but frankly I wasn't optimistic. Unwilling to commit to a long wade, we sat on the boat, just watching for tails.
    Against the glare of the descending sun, the first redfish tail popped up. Heading upwind, the red was obviously grubbing on the grassy bottom, and would occasionally explode on some invisible morsel. Jim jumped out of the boat, and headed crosswind, finally getting into position to present his Mother's Day fly to the orange tail. Minutes later, he landed the redfish, and then quickly caught another.
    Other tails began to pop up, and Bob finally got into the action. As he closed in on his first tailing red, Jim and I couldn't help advising him in every way conceivable way. "Get closer! Reposition your fly! Don't let him get upwind!" we yelled. Finally, Bob hooked up on a 27-inch red -- the largest redfish landed all day. Jim and I broke into loud cheers and applause. As I went up to help Bob land the fish, I said, with tongue in cheek, "The advice paid off, didn't it." He smiled wryly and said, "I couldn't have done it without all the help."
   On Tuesday, Kathy and I double guided, using Joe MacKay's Curlew along with our own boat. She guided Seattle Mariners' hitting coach, Terry Pollreisz from Arizona, while I guided Chris Jarvis from New Mexico and his buddy Keith from California. We headed to the same area where we've been finding abundant tailing redfish. The tailing action was a bit sparse for us, but Kathy and Terry were surrounded by tailing fish. Less fortunate, we went north, where we found tailing pods up against a bank near the Intracoastal. Keith opted to stay behind while Chris and I approached two pods of frolicking redfish. Spooking the first pod, we went onto the second, where Chris missed a strike on the Mother's Day fly. We'd all but forgotten Keith when suddenly he yelled at us. Easing along behind us, he managed to present his pink VIP to a cruising 27-inch red, which promptly ate it. I ran back for photos, while Chris successfully stalked his first (and second) redfish.

        While we were catching redfish along the spoil island shoreline, Kathy and Terry were stalking reds that were tailing in the open waters. Terry landed his first redfish on a Mother's Day fly. We headed for the same area, where we joined them for lunch. Sharing stories about their first reds on a fly, the three men were obviously very happy with the way the day was unfolding.
    Predictably, the redfish began to come onto the flats in greater numbers by early afternoon. Returning to a spot where there'd been nothing earlier, we encountered abundant redfish. Poling downwind, we encountered dozens of redfish -- alone or in small pods -- heading upwind toward the shallowest waters. Keith opted to wade, while Chris remained on the boat. He went on to land a total of eight redfish before the day was over, using a weighted Mother's Day fly, and a spoon fly. Terry finished the day by landing his second red from the  boat.
    Kathy guided Terry again today, while I went off to teach class at UT Pan American. Terry's wife Sheila went along for the ride and provided Kathy and Terry with a third set of eyes for spotting the cruising and tailing fish. No sooner had they stopped and began readying the gear, than Sheila got her first glimpse of a tailing redfish. Terry was off in hot pursuit but with glassy conditions the fishing was techinically challenging. The fish spooked on Terry's approach. By the end of the morning, Terry had missed several reds on the take. But the action was exciting nonetheless. Terry frequently remarked with a broad smile, "This is some kind of fun." Midday the group  returned to the dock for a short break. Terry and Kathy then returned to the waters around 2:30. For some time the fish were difficult to find. But by 4:30 they were into fish, so much so that they were unaware of the quickly setting sun. They returned in the dark by cue beam, much to the chagrin of our worried neighbor Rex and our son Pete. However their efforts paid off. Terry scored again, and summed it up by saying that with a few more days of fishing, he'd "have it down." We hope to see him and his wife Sheila back down here for a few more innings with those tailing reds.
    I can't say enough about the quality of the fly fishing we've had in the last month, but I suppose I've said enough.

    11/25/03 The fishing has been superb, since the tides have fallen to the lowest levels since August. Although we've had several cold fronts in the last few weeks, the fishing in between has been "story book." Last Thursday, for instance, I guided regular Kingfisher guests, Bill Renfro and Joe Browning, for  just half a day, since I had to go teach college that evening. The day dawned windless and cloudless, a perfect day for sight casting on the LLM. We ducked into a west side venue, and spotted a large tailing pod three hundred yards from where we stopped. So I poled the guys toward the pod, which was driving shrimp in our general direction.  The reds were coming out of the water, tails and backs showing, as the shrimp skipped ahead of them. Even though it was dead calm, the laughing gulls were doing their best to hold their positions over the reds, and to scramble after the fleeing shrimp.

The pod managed to get by Bill and Joe, but after continuing for another 100 yards, it swept around and gave Bill some great shots. Hooking up twice, Bill was disappointed when both reds promptly came off. I find that this is a typical result when casting to a tailing pod: The reds are so competitive that they slash at the fly, rather than taking it deeply. This often results in poor hookups.

We headed to another spot, where we spent the rest of the day. After I brought the Curlew off plane in about 15 inches of water, individual tailing reds, and tailing pods, appeared all around us. Bill grabbed his rod and bid us adieu. Meanwhile, I began to pole Joe toward shot after shot at heartstopping action. It was often hard to decide which fish to target: there were so many tails.  Joe had never been poled, so it was a learning experience for him. Even so, he caught his first red from a poled skiff on a Mother's Day Fly, and announced that it was, after all, great fun!

Bill kept us apprised us his successes via walkie talkie. Before we had to head in, he had landed four reds on a Mother's Day Fly up to 26 inches long. He said it was the best fishing he'd had all year.

On Friday and Saturday, we hosted Britton Cooper from Dallas, and his buddy Alex Maher from Jackson Hole. Both were very experienced fly fishers, and put their experience to work in a venue that was totally new to Alex. The guys casted to tails each morning, and then stalked cruising reds near the East Cut. It was a great weekend for them, and it was rewarding for me to see Alex catch his first reds on a fly, and to see Britton enjoying the kind of sight casting that uniquely characterizes the Lower Laguna.

  Today, I guided two Scots (one "t") -- Doug Black, who now lives in Houston, and his childhood buddy Angelo. Neither had ever caught a redfish on a fly, but both men succeeded with apparent ease. Although the nighttime temperatures had dipped into the mid-40s, we found tailing reds in shallow water by 9:00. Angelo caught his first red on a pink VIP after the tailing fish hit the fly three times.

A while later, I poled Doug in an area where he enjoyed a 15-20 shots at very big reds while the sun was shining.  It was amazing to see one red after  another from 25-30 inches long. After the clouds ruined that action, Doug rolled with the change by tying on a silver spoonfly, and waded the same area. He came up with this nice 25+" red, and followed it up with another a few minutes later.

We're beginning to see the big trout that we targeted last winter. I expect they'll be in the same area that they were in last year. I'll certainly keep you abreast of that action.

11/13/03 It's been a challenging fishing week, with some stellar exceptions -- like yesterday when Jim Shulin -- the new Springbrook/Temple Fork representative -- joined me on the water for a few hours. We went out at daybreak, and checked a couple of west side venues. the day felt promising, with low wind, and a cloudless sky. We ran into a school of reds at one spot, so we got out and waded toward them, hoping that they'd stick around and show themselves. But they slipped away, leaving only a pods of their buddies tailing against a shoreline. I called Jim over, hoping to orchestrate a double hookup on our VIPs, but when we cast into the tails, all of the reds went after my fly. At least three reds competed for the fly, missing it twice before one grabbed it...and I broke off!  (I do it, too, more often than I care to admit.)

We went further north, and saw plenty of wakes in dead calm water before we finally stopped in an area that was shallow enough to see them tail, if they we so inclined. They weren't. However, we began to get shots from the boat. So I poled Jim for awhile. He caught his firsst red on a popper when a red took his VIP only 15 feet from the boat.  Then I suggested that he switch to a subsurface fly, to keep the reds from looking up and seeing the boat. He put on a cactus shrimp that had a weedguard that was so stiff it could have doubled as a fence post. I didn't know the guard was so stiff, but after two red tried to eat it unsuccessfully, we inspected the fly and declared the weedguard to be a fishguard.

We moved to a new spot when the water became too murky, and decided to fish together from the boat. Since I'm left handed, I got on one end, and Jim casted from the other. We proceeded to get about 40 shots at singles and  podding reds that would suddenly appear 20 feet from the boat in the murky water, giving us only one quick cast before they'd spook. We managed to land three more reds up to 24 1/2" long before we had to go in at 11:30 am.

Monday and Tuesday looked promising, too, but a combination of the wrong wind (northeast wind blowing us into the sun) and scarce fish resulted in little luck finding or catching fish with Mike Hurst and Bob Sigsby from the Montgomery County Fly Fishers.  Before that, we hosted Bill Huegle, Tom Reese and Gary Tatum from the Piney Woods Fly Fishers. Hailing from the Lufkin area, Bill and his buddies were the hardiest, most gung-ho group of fly fishers we've hosted in  some time. We had wind, we had rain, and we had the worst wading conditions imaginable. But they had a wonderful time, and we did, too, getting to know them. On Friday afternoon, we lucked into some pods of reds working shrimp under birds. The guys landed three fine redfish that took Mother's Day Flies without hesitation.

11/4/03 We've been on the water almost every day for the last two weeks. On Saturday, I guided Jim Miller and his son Greg. Jim had fished with me about two weeks earlier, and wanted to give his son the experience of fly fishing on the LLM. It was a tough day -- not much sun, and a lot of wind. Still, both anglers managed to hook up in sizeable reds. Here's a photo of Jim with a red that he caught on a chartreuse VIP, after breaking off minutes earlier on another fish.

On Sunday, I guided Bill Collins from San Antonio. His wife Marian accompanied us in our quest. At daybreak, the conditions were so bad, however, that after only 30 minutes of fishing in overcast, windy conditions, I offered to take them in and not charge them for the day. We almost pulled the plug, but just at the last minute, the clouds began to break up. So we stuck it out. Thank goodness, because it turned out to be a wonderful day for fishing and for catching.

The sun came out, and the clouds burned off, even though the wind picked up to about 18-20 mph before the end of the day. We found abundant redfish where I'd found them for the last two weeks. I began poling through the area -- along a long bank where the water was shallow enough and clear enough to see the fish. After poling for only about 100 yards, we ran into a pod of about 15 reds that were frolicking around, chasing shrimp. I suggested that we wade into them, since it would give Bill a chance to get close without spooking them. It was to get close enough to the pod, because the fish were highly mobile, turning this way and that. The fly always seemed to land a foot short of the pod.  At one point, I finally said to Bill: "You have to be aggressive. You have to get close to these fish real soon or they're going to be gone." We doubled our pace, until the reds were only about 40 feet away. Bill placed the Mother's Day Fly in the middle of the fish, and one rose to it without hesitation.

Bill went on to land two more reds in the 24-25" range -- quite an accomplishment for a fly fisher who is still new to sight casting to reds.

On Monday, I had the pleasure of guiding Mo Alei from New Mexico.  Mo is one of those people who appreciates everything, and complains about nothing. So let me say it: We had a difficult day. The sun would peek out, and then the clouds would pass over, and block the rays. We saw lots of reds, but most of them were heading in the other direction by the time we cold spot them. Mo had the most difficult of tasks, but he continually enjoyed the challenge.

On Tuesday, I was scheduled to guide Mo again. The day proved to be a perfect sight casting day, with low wind and a cloudless sky. I was eager to show Mo what could happen under better conditions. But unfortunately, he had developed some symptoms in the night that needed medical attention, and so we had to cancel the day. We surely hope that he and Elaine can come back to Kingfisher soon.

Kathy and I decided to go out a while -- to scout for her Wednesday and Thursday charters, and to wet a line, too.  We went back north, and found the redfish in the same places. While the sun was still low on the horizon, I fished a long bank and had several shots at very large reds that were cruising along the shoreline with their backs out of the water. After breaking off on one, I landed a 28 3/4" red on an orange VIP. Meanwhile, Kathy targeted tailing and podding redfish from aboard the drifting Curlew. We went on to land nine reds and a sheepshead between us -- sight casting in knee-deep water under full sunshine. The reds were everywhere, and we could have easily caught that many more. But we're easily satisfied, so we went in at midday.

Here's Kathy with one of the reds that we caught.

The tides are still very high, which it typical for this time of year. Most of the action has been on the west side where the shrimp are thick. We've done really well on VIPs -- and on Mother's Day Flies, tied with glass eyes (shown), so they'll sink a bit faster in the unusually high water.

10/29/03 When the cold front came through early Monday morning, it was hard for me to believe that Tuesday would be a good fly fishing day, even though the weather service predicted low wind and sunny conditions. It was so hard to believe, in fact, that four out of  six of our guided/lodging guests opted to leave early to return the west coast. They had stayed over  after the weekend IWFF festival, and had hoped to get some fishing in. Well, if they would have stayed, they would have seen some finest fishing anywhere. That's what Jerome and Judith Moiso discovered by sticking it out until Tuesday.

We left the dock at daybreak, and were layered with fleece and Gore-Tex and gloves, which eventually came off as the sun rose. It was crystal clear, and bit breezier than had been predicted.  After checking out four different venues, we arrived at one of my favorite west-side spots about 10:00. The sun was high enough to see the fish, and so I poled June and Jerome down a long bank, hoping to get a few shots. It was so good there, that we ended up poling through the same area four times, and landing seven reds!  The Californians were seasoned fly fishers, but totally inexperienced in pure sight casting.  They adjusted quickly to the demands of the game, however. Indeed, Judith made one of the most beautiful 60-foot crosswind casts to a retreating redfish that I've ever seen. (She caught him, of course.)

Finally, the mullet streamed in and muddied up the water, so we headed elsewhere -- to a place I haven't fished much since late summer. There were so many redfish there that we had constant cruising and tailing redfish in sight for about two and a half hours! These were bigger fish, on average -- in the 25+ range -- and they were on the move, so it was tougher fishing. June and Jerome managed to land another fish apiece, but lost a couple more, as well. Finally, the declining angle of the sun defeated us, and we headed in after a perfect day on the water -- nine reds ranging from 22-25 inches, all caught on Mother's Day Flies all tied with glass eyes to aid in their sink rate.

I ran into a regular client from Austin, Vince Wiseman, who was staying elsewhere with a friend (no room at Kingfisher). They had found some especially large reds, and had landed six over 27 inches. So, you see, the bay is back to where it usually is this time of year -- harboring abundant redfish, and big ones to boot. The trout are hard to find, but we'll begin to see them in early December.

10/26/03 Last Friday, I had the privilege of guiding Gary Graham, owner with his wife Yvonne (who is also the president of the International Women Fly Fishers) of "Baja on the Fly" -- a destination fly fishing operation on the Baja peninsula. Gary and I were on the old Curlew, and Kathy and her client Odette -- a IWFF member from California -- were fishing on the new Curlew.

After conferring at breakfast about where to go, Kathy decided to pursue the "sure bet" -- a  place where we'd been finding some large reds in very shallow conditions. I decided to duck into a couple of places that haven't been fishing well, but are usually superior venues this time of year.

Gary and I came off of plane in an area where the water had dropped a foot in the past week. It was dead calm. As usual, I climbed up on the poling platform to pole Gary around until, at least, we ascertained that there were fish in the area. I climbed up on the platform, took a good look around, and realized that there redfish everywhere! Within 50 yards of the boat, there were several small pods of reds, and I could see reds breaking and tailing in every direction, even though the morning light limited my sight.

I called Kathy on the cell phone and urged her to bring Odette into the area. Minutes later, she came off plane 200 yards away from us. For the next seven hours, both of us remained in that one spot!

We decided to have Gary stay aboard the boat for awhile, but it was pure chaos. There were simply too many targets to settle down and get focused. So I suggested we get off the boat and do it right -- lower our profile and use topwaters to attract the fish in the calm conditions.

Shrimp were hopping all around us, and the reds were zooming by, chasing and slurping up the skipping shrimp.  As soon as Gary would cast, the redfish would be elsewhere -- so it was especially hard to get the fly in front of the fish. Knowing that Gary was an expert fly fisher, I left him pretty much alone so he could get the feel of the situation. After a while, he landed his first of four reds, ranging from 24 to 26 inches apiece.

All but one of the reds were taken on a chartreuse VIP. It was heart-stopping action, and not easy at all. In spite of all of the reds, there was a lot of grass, and the water was very shallow, so it was hard to get the reds to see the fly. In spite of these obstacles, Gary managed to present to dozens of tailing and cruising reds over the next few hours. I think his back must be bruised from my excited backslapping over strikes, misses and hooked fish. There was one particularly memorable encounter where a 26-inch red was swimming right for us. Gary presented the fly about two feet ahead of him, and the red slowly rose to the popper, turned sideways, and eyed the fly from only inches away. Then wham! He hit it...and missed. Gary kept stripping the fly, and wham! The red came out of the water and slammed it again. Still no hookup. I was yelling something useless by then. And then, the red lunged forward, only 20 feet from us, and took the fly. We were both screaming by then.

Meanwhile, Kathy and Odette stayed in one general area for about four hours, and only moved about 100 yards during that time. Using a Mother's Day Fly, Odette -- who had fished the previous two days with Kathy -- landed four reds, lost a couple of more, and broke off on a very big one. She said it was one of the finest fishing experiences she'd ever had -- and she has fly fished around the world.

On Saturday, I had the pleasure to guiding three former clients from this area -- Bob Simpson, Charles Clarke, and Jim Miller. Bob is a regular TIFT contestant each year, and usually places in the top three -- so he's one of the best fly fishers in the area.  However, the day was a poor weather day for fly fishing. I didn't have very high hopes as we left the dock on a windy, cloudy morning.

Of course, we headed straight for the spot where Kathy and I had fished our clients the previous day. The reds were clearly present. Indeed, we ran smack into a school that swept away from us as we shut down. Bob and Charles took off in two directions, and I accompanied Jim toward the bank where we'd caught most of the reds on Friday.

Pods and singles were tailing intermittently in the wind, and terns were constantly diving on the shrimp. The disturbances from the birds made it difficult to keep the fish action in view.  Jim said later, "I've seen more tails this morning than I've seen all my life," so it was exciting action. Charles and Bob encountered numerous reds that would suddenly appear a few feet away and then disappear. Bob managed to catch only one 26" red before we left. Cloudy conditions argued for a change of venues, but I planned to return later.

After 40 miles of largely fruitless searching -- including a brief stint on the Mansfield east cut -- we returned to the first venue. The 20 mph wind had completely eliminated the water clarity, but we did find a small area of clear water. So we fished there. Bob pulled out the stops and landed four more reds, and lost a couple of more. As I said to him later, "You did amazingly well for such a poor day." It says a lot about the angler, and it says a lot about how the reds have returned to their familiar autumn haunts. We look forward to some "story-book" fishing this fall.
 
 

10/21/03 The fish are still spread out and hard to find, but this morning John Kautsch -- and his son Curt and friend Greg -- saw some quality sight casting to a few sizeable fish. We fished on the west side exclusively, in several venues. Although the tides are continuing to drop,  we were able to fish an area that few anglers have ever fished before -- very remote and off the beaten path.  The guys spread out and managed to get a few classic shots apiece. John enticed this hefty red with a red and white Deceiver, and his son Curt broke off on the strike (the hook broke!) with a huge red that was in bootie-deep water. Meanwhile, Greg casted to a big red that was cruising among some vegetation, and had a big ladyfish grab the fly.  Later, he followed three reds upwind in 9 inches of water, but never could get close enough to present his fly. If you like hunting, the fishing has been great.  The bay is still recovering from all the rain and the flood tides. As yet, the fall podding action has not begun, but we can expect it to commence any day now. Places that have been too deep and murky to fly fish will suddenly host huge numbers of reds sweeping around like folk dancers with arms entwined.

10/20/03 The bay is fishing better every day. The tide in the Arroyo has dropped several inches since yesterday, and the north winds are dying down. Guiding Ian, Eddie (the rod eater in the photo), and Dave for third last of three days (Kim went to the Beach), we left at dawn and headed  south from the mouth of the Arroyo, to check some spots that I hadn't visited in a while.  Planing through some of the shallowest water in the Bay, we came upon some mud boils and pushes that indicated the presence of redfish or sheepshead, or both. The low light made it hard to identify them, so we stopped and poled a bit. After seeing a couple of redfish tailing, we piled out and spread out in three directions. For the next three hours, the guys stalked reds that were skirting the shallowest edges of grassy "islands". It was the kind of "hunting" that experienced fly fishers love. For instance, Eddie stalked one red for half an hour w