Kingfisher Inn's Fly Fishing Report for the Lower Laguna Madre, by Capt. Scott Sparrow

9/21/05 I have had boat trouble, so we've had to reschedule or refer some of our trips. Still, my friend Larry Shriver and I went out last Friday in preparation for four presumed days of guiding ahead of us. As it turned out, I took one of those days and he and Rick Hartman divvied up the other three while I tended to my Etec, which turned out to be burned up. That's a long and unpleasant story, but suffice to say that it's being repaired and will be back in action soon.

Larry and I were supposed to be scouting, but the first place we went was full of reds, so we ended up fishing for a couple of hours, using VIPs in water that was only bootie deep. The reds were cruising around and feeding explosively on small mullet. Whenever we'd get the VIP within range of one of the reds, they would wheel around and chase it. It was great action, and we landed seven or eight reds. While we were wading the area, my friends John Kautch and Bob Simpson came into the area and fished nearby. We left them there and went east to the sand; but Bob emailed me later and told me that they'd caught several fish up to 27.5 inches long. They were crashing bait against a shoreline. Larry and I left the cameras aboard his boat, but Bob emailed me this shot of two nice reds.

Larry and I headed east and north and caught a few more on the sand. Bob and John fished the sand later, and did well there, too.

Rick Hartman guided two of our guests on Monday and Tuesday, and they found big reds in the same general area. His two guys had never fished the Lower Laguna, but they caught seven reds up to 29 inches their first day -- on VIPs. I saw them that evening and they both were pretty psyched by the incredible sight casting they'd experienced, but they were kicking themselves for lifting their rods too quickly on the strike -- a typical malady suffered by any angler whose heart is still beating, including guides who don't fish often enough -- like myself.

Rita is heading our way, but if we remain on the south side of her, we shouldn't get much tides. Indeed, the tides should be extremely low if we stay on the downside of her. When Brett hit only 50 miles north of us in 1999 (Cat 4), the Arroyo was lower than I've ever seen it. The counterclockwise spin draws the water out on the south side of the storm. It's the northern edge that gets the surge.

All of our bookings have cancelled or rescheduled for the coming weekend, so Kathy and I are catching up in preparation for a very busy October.

9/5/05 I have had so little time to spare that the fishing report has suffered. Kathy and I both began a new semester at UT-Pan American, and we're gearing up for a trip to the Fly Fishing Retailers Show in Denver this week. However, in between all of this activity, I've been on the water quite a bit. I need to keep this short, but I want to give you a thumbnail of the recent action.

Even as Katrina devastated New Orleans, the summer tides remained low here on the Lower Laguna. Indeed, the only evidence of the hurricane were the slight northeast winds that altered the usual later summer pattern. Knowing that a tidal surge was heading our way, I guided Tom from South Carolina and his buddy Jay from Ohio. We revisted the podding action on the west side briefly on the first day before going in search of the mythical Redfish Parade. It would have been better, actually, if we'd found it on the second day -- after guys had acclimated more fully to the unique requirements of the LLM redfish. But I didn't hear any complaints when we came off plane smack in the middle of almost three hours of streaming redfish. Instead of catching them entering the grassy flats, we caught leaving. Wake after wake, the fish passed Jay and Tom as they stood in one spot casting endlessly. It was the best of what we found during their stay. We went looking the next day, only to find the tides rising slowly from the tidal surge that was nearing the coastline.

Before the water levels spiked, Kathy and I -- and our dogs Opal and Lily -- went out for fun for a few hours one morning about a week ago. Again, we found the pods on the west side, but didn't fish them long before they dissipated. After landing five reds, we looped south looking for the leading edge of the Redfish Parade. As I was thinking that the late summer phenomenon wasn't "on," we encountered four or five gamefish wakes and shut down. In moments we knew that we had hit it just right -- the leading edge of streaming redfish approaching from the north. We stood in one spot for over two hours, and had shot after shot -- probably 40 good shots apiece. Two or three double hookups punctuated an endless stream of classic sight casting in 12 inches of grassy, calm water.

Kathy took the honors with a 29 inch red, and then followed it a few minutes later with another one almost as large. At one point, I'd had enough catching, and went back to the boat the give the dogs a wet romp.

Here's Kathy enjoying her coffee and resting her casting arm. Later, we stopped on the east side long enough to catch and release a ladyfish that was probably barely enough to beat or tie the 16 and 20 lb. line class IGFA world records -- just over 3 lbs on the certified Boga grip. But we decided to wait for a larger fish.

I just ended up three days of guiding three men from Arkansas. Randy Holden -- a regular Kingfisher guest along with his fanaticial buddy Russell Myers -- came down without Russell for the first time. Accompanied by Carl and Mark Robertston this time, Randy had to deal with regular phone calls from Russell who, at the last minute, almost boarded a plane in time to join his friends. But family obligations kept Russell in port this time.

We dodged storms for three days, but had some pretty fine fly fishing interspersed with some pretty difficult conditions. Katrina's effects had finally arrived as an extra six to 12 inches of water. The normal jump in water levels in early September makes fly fishing especially difficult. but Katrina pushed the time frame up a week or two.

Their first day out was quite disappointing. We dodged storms and used almost a whole tank of gas trying to find the fish. Still, a couple were caught including a fine sheepshead that Randy caught by dragging a VIP behind him. Miracles do happen, and catching a sheepshead in that manner was truly miraculous.

We had some truly awesome conditions on the second day out. We found redfish crashing bait against a remote westside shoreline; and the three anglers enjoyed casting to dozens of reds that were cruising around with their backs out of the water. Of course, when we returned the next day, they weren't there. But that's what makes fly fishing the LLM an endless challenging endeavor.

Later that day, we got into some pretty fine action on the white sand, where we found cruising reds surrounded with sheepshead. Again Randy did his sheephead magic in addition to landing a couple of reds. Carl stalked some reds successfully, as well, and Mark finally latched onto a red before the day was over.

On their third day, we prepared to leave the dock only to find my motor's starter jammed. Desparate, I called a friend -- Larry Shriver -- who immediately offered to lend me his boat. Within an hour, Larry arrived from Laguna Vista with his Shallow Sport, and then surprised me further by offering to accompany us, as well. My worst day of the month turned into one of my best days -- simply because of a friend's generosity. Indeed, it was a beautiful day that ended with some intoxicating action on the white sand where we found reds following sting rays. We had Larry to thank for all of that. It's a day and a gesture that I'll never forget.

8/22/05 Sunday dawned with clear skies and neglible wind -- one of those dream days of late summer. It was Ryan's last day in Texas, and it was important for both of us that we spent the last day together on the bay. For a teenager, it is perhaps unusual that he gets out of bed so readily at 5:00, and hasn't thought of casting a spin rod for three years. I scratch my head, and then have to conclude that it's a very good sign.

Needless to say, we returned to the same area where we've been finding redfish podding and big trout cruising the edges of the redfish action. We arrived before sunrise, and within minutes could make out 50 tailing reds sweeping slowly toward the boat. Ryan slipped overboard in time to intercept them with an orange VIP. I intentionally left the pods for him, but even he had tired a bit of the easy podding action, so while I headed for a shallow grassy area where the trout have been prowling, he headed for the shoreline where he and his uncle Chip had taken turns catching cruising reds just a few days earlier. Meanwhile, three groups of 20-50 fish tailed happily between us.
Ryan did not find the redfish cruising the shoreline, and so he moseyed back toward the podding reds. However, I ignored the pods, because the trout were thick where I waded. Using a VIP, I missed a couple, and got a lackluster response from two more on top before switching to a Mother's Day Fly and landing a 23-24 inch fish, and then a 25+ inch trout a while later. Our good friend Henry Bone and two of his buddles had poled into the area just in time to take a photo of me releasing the second fish. Ryan and I returned to the boat around 11:00 after landing a dozen fish between us. We hadn't even hit the sand, yet. But the morning fishing had already been enough for both of us.

8/16/05 My son Ryan arrived 10 days ago from Virginia. Usually when he's here during the summer, I'm busy with clients, so we don't have a lot of time together. But with Kathy's help in saying "no" to guiding, I've had a week off to spend with Ryan on the water.

This morning, my brother Chip joined us for one of the most memorable fly fishing trips we've ever had together. We fished an area where the reds have been podding off and on for the last two weeks, and the big trout have been cruising on top at daybreak. As soon as we arrived, and shut down the motor, several large tailing pods appeared and began heading our way. I was more interested in taking pictures and helping Ryan get off to a good start, so I moseyed behind him and Chip as they began casting their VIPs to the tailing fish. Within a few minutes both anglers were hooked up, and the sun was only barely breaking the horizon.

I left them to pursue the pods after spotting what I'd come for -- big trout. An 8-9 pound fish appeared to the north, and stayed within view for over an hour. Knowing how sensitive they are, I took my time approaching her. On the way, I caught a couple of reds and then caught a 26+ inch trout that was cruising on top just like her big sister. I released the fish, and then got ready for the bigger fish, which was suddenly heading my way. She came within 40 feet of me, and began milling around. Trying to stay cool, I casted my orange Mother's Day Fly to her several times before she finally saw it and hit it. It was probably a 20-lb. tippet world record fish, but I missed her. She stayed within sight for the next half hour, but never came within casting distance again. We're going back tomorrow morning, needless to say.

Meanwhile, Chip and Ryan were yelling at me to come join them. They were casting to one red after another along a shallow shoreline. Chip landed seven up to 29 inches, and Ryan -- who is still fairly new to fly fishing -- landed four reds. The fish had stopped podding, but the action along the shoreline was classic sight casting to big singles with their backs and tails out of the water.

We all got thirsty about the same time, and began heading back to the boat. The wind started to come up, and suddenly the reds were podding everywhere again. I landed three reds walking back to the boat, and as we sat drinking our Gatorade, two large pods frolicked within 100 feet of the boat. However, we'd had it so good that we decided to leave them alone and head back to Kingfisher.

I told Ryan, "You're on the A team now." He said, "I don't think I'm A team material, yet." I disagreed, saying that anyone who catches four reds on poppers is an official member of anyone's A team. Chip agreed. I was pretty proud, needless to say.

8/14/05 My son Ryan and I went out today. We left the dock a bit later in the morning than usual and headed to the west side, planning to head north and east by late morning. We "tested" the Redfish Parade and found it was not on, but we did locate a few tailing reds in one westside venue. It was tough picking them out from the mullet, however. So, after landing only one red, we headed east. Joe and Debbie MacKay had caught several fish nearby, and they joined us as we made beeline for a spot that has been producing well later in the day. Parking within 100 feet of each other, we waded onto a grassy flat, where the reds have been tailing vigorously in the wind -- which was fortunate, because the wind was already above 15 mph when we arrived. Ryan and I separated, and began seeing scattered reds. Ryan, who has only recently begun fly fishing exclusively, missed a couple and then landed a nice red, as shown.

Two days ago, I guided an old client, Gary Maler, and his nephew Ryan (different Ryan!). Ryan is a fine spin fisher, but has been resistant to fly fishing exclusively. Gary must have convinced him to leave his spin rod at home, because they appeared on the dock with only fly rods in hand. The morning turned out to be an uncle's answer to prayer, as Ryan proceeded to catch four reds sight casting in a very difficult venue, characterized by very shallow water and fairly thick grass. Using an orange Mother's Day Fly, Ryan exhibited prodgious patience and focus as he casted to the lone reds that were tailing and cruising upwind. I wouldn't be surprised if Ryan was the one that "hooked" by the fishing.

8/11/05 Tides are at a critically low point, and the winds have been especially high for the last three days, making for difficult fishing. Harold Ochamb and his daughter Andy caught the tail end of the two weeks of consistently great fly fishing, but then caught the beginning of the windiest August that we've had in a long time.

First of all, let me backcast to last weekend, which was a dream weekend for John and J.R. Boyd. It was the second year in a row that father and son had fly fished the first weekend in August. Last year, J.R. distinguished himself by catching a lot of reds in the Redfish Parade -- a phenomenon that commonly occurs in July and August. John had a frustrating trip last year, but last weekend both anglers had a trip that I'm sure they'll remember the rest of their lives.

We started out by Q-beaming for over 15 miles to a place on the west side where we'd been finding massive pods of redfish feeding on shrimp. We pulled into the area, careful to avoid the main area; but while poling toward the alleged hot spot, we began to see tails pop up all around us. Within minutes, we were out of the boat. Meanwhile, the tails became pods, and the pods became certifiable schools. For several hours, we were surrounded by tailing groups of redfish. Using VIPs for the first two hours, and then switching to Mother's Day flies, John and J.R. each caught several reds. In contrast to last year, John had the "hot rod," a matter of pride to post-50 anglers and guides. Then we went after ladyfish -- J.R.'s favorite target after barely missing a world record last year. We caught some small ones, but the world-class fish eluded us. The morning was so spectacular that John and J.R. opted to go in earlier than we usually do.

The next day, we returned to the same spot and were disappointed to see only a few scattered tails before the wind rose and put them down. Although I was loathe to leave a place that had produced so well 24 hours earlier, I decided that the fish had moved to a different place. Suspecting that the Redfish Parade could be "on," I made a wide circle to look for the reds, and suddenly we were back into fish.

We got out of the boat, and began to notice single tailing fish in virtually every direction. Then, as the water settled down, it became clear that the Parade was approaching us from the north. For the next two hours or so, we had shot after shot at singles, double and triples. The reds were cruising on top, tailing intermittently, and swinging their tails as they resumed their upwind migration into a shallower area. It was classic one-on-one sight casting action, and it wasn't easy. The Mother's Day fly had to be perfectly presented. Otherwise, the fish wouldn't see it or it would spook. The window of opportunity was defined by sheer inches. Still, J.R. in particular did quite well.

Thinking that it couldn't get any better, we headed for the sand around 11:00, mainly to target big ladyfish. I wanted to show them a place up near the Mansfield Cut, but as we planed along the edge of the sand, redfish began to flee ahead of the boat. I stopped the boat, and we got out to wade. Then, an amazing thing began to happen. School after school of ladyfish began to approach from the north, mixed with redfish. Within ten minutes, John caught two ladyfish and a nice red. And J.R. began catching both species, as well. At one point, J.R. said something that most experienced Lower Laguna Madre fly fishers would raise their eyebrows at: He said, "They're a lot easier to catch out here on the sand." It was true last Saturday, but it's rarely true.

John booked the same weekend for next year. It was a pleasure guiding the Boyds, and I look forward to their return.

Back to the Ochambs. Harold is from North Carolina, and his daughter is from California. Harold is a seasoned east coast flyfisher, and wanted to try his hand at sightcasting for reds, trout, and ladyfish on the LLM. Andy is an experienced diver, but wants to learn fly fishing as an alternative sport. She had practiced a lot on her own, but hadn't spent much time on the water.

So it was somewhat surprising that she got off to such a bang on her first morning out. We went to the same area I'd bee fishing with the Boyds, but did not find much evidence of the hoards of redfish we'd seen on Friday and Saturday. Trying to decide what to do next, I noticed a few gulls working about 1/4 mile away in extremely shallow water. Using my bonculars, I spotted the unambiguous signs of a sweeping group of redfish. So we got up on plane, and boated to the edge of the area. Then I got out of the boat, and pushed the Curlew toward the area where I'd seen the fish. Slowly it dawned on us that there were several large groups of aggressively feeding redfish within 200 yards of the boat. I continued to push the Curlew toward the first group, and as we got closer, we could see that the reds were porpoising in 10 inches of water. Shrimps were jumping ahead of them, and regular explosions singified the reds' success. Andy let her dad cast first. Harold stung two, lost one, and then finally landed a 25-inch red on a Clouser.

Andy took over, and within a few minutes she was casting to a huge pod that was sweeping toward her. Leaning toward the fish, and her rod low, Andy stripped until she had a 26 inch red on her line -- her first redfish on the fly. Needless to say, father and daughter were psyched, not only by their success, but by the natural drama that we'd witnessed.

I wish I could say that we enjoyed such action for the next three days, but alas the winds were punishing. We had only modest successes on the west side and on the sand. One high point on day three was finding a lot of fish near the area where they'd caught the reds, including some very large trout. Indeed, Harold presented to a certifiable world record trout in the 9-10 lb. range. If their guide had been on his toes, he would have had a good chance at hooking the fisth. But I was looking 50 yards from the boat, and when we saw the big fish, she was only 10 feet from the port beam and heading upwind. It was a difficult shot because it came so late.

We sure hope that Harold and Andy will come again at a time when the fishing is a bit easier.

7/31/05 Since I last updated this report, the tides have fallen dramatically -- to the levels that we usually experience this time of year. Last week, Kathy and I went out for big trout and ladyfish, in hopes that she might catch a world record trout. The tides were still very high, however, and we had cloudy conditions as well. It was a very difficult fishing day, and we returned to the dock without having caught a single fish.

The next day, however, I took out Larry Shriver -- who, with his wife Janet, has just relocated from Colorado to Laguna Vista. We have become friends, but it was the first time we'd found the time to fish together. Larry and I found an entirely different bay than the one Kathy and I fished the day before. The tides had fallen nearly six inches, and so the levels were perfect for certain westside back lagoons that had been awash with storm tides for the previous two weeks, due to the tidal swells from Hurricane Emily and Tropical Storm Gert.

Larry and I took the Curlew into a back lagoon before daylight, but we could seek redfish wakes all over as we planed into the area. Shutting down, we had only minutes to wait before tails began popping up. Indeed, as we slipped overboard, we began to see large groups of tailing reds milling around. Mullet were everywhere, so we had to move slowly into range so we wouldn't send a committee of frightened mullet into the happily tailing reds. It took us both a while to adjust to the sensitive conditions, but before long we were both hooked up on sizeable reds. I landed on that was around 28 inches on my five-weight. I left the camera on board, so there aren't any photos of that foray.

I told Larry that we'd been finding lots of reds on the sand, north of the Arroyo's mouth, so we headed that way once the wind came up and put the tailing fish down. Thirty minutes later, we were wading on the white sand, and casting small Clousers to hoards of sheepshead. The redfish were scarce at first, but slowly began to materialize. We landed a couple before I decided to go back and float the boat down closer to where Larry had waded. It was then that I spotted fish approaching from the east. Thinking that they were sheepshead school, I was shocked with a group of 8 reds came into view. I casted to them fought over the fly before I hooked up. Releasing the red, I turned upwind again and resumed my march to the boat when, again, another group of reds swept through. It became clear that the reds were streaming in from the east. Most of the casts were upwind, and we caught a couple more, but the angling was very tough in the 15-20 mph conditions.

Larry and I agreed that the day had been as perfect as one could ever hope. Most importantly, we relished the sights of the water, the birds and the fish. We were two guys over 50 who have come to enjoy being on the bay much more than doing anything in particular, including catching fish.

This weekend, I had the pleasure of guiding our old client and friend Bruce Hathaway from Victoria. Bruce has fished with me about five times, and we've had some glorious days on the water together. This time was no different.

I was eager to show Bruce the Redfish Parade, a to-die-for phenomenon that takes place in midsummer to late summer, early in the morning. We left the dock in the dark, and Q-beamed 15 miles to my favorite Parade area, and shut down before we could see well enough to tie on a fly. After a few minutes, however, I spotted a back and tail out of the water only 30 feet from the boat. Bruce slipped overboard and stalked the fish for a while fruitlessly. It seemed very finicky. Moments later, another exposed back appeared and Bruce hooked up after putting the black VIP inches from its nose. Bruce had caught his first red before the sun had risen!

I thought that the Redfish Parade was "on," but it never materialized. In fact, there were hardly any reds in the area. Instead, Bruce casted to big trout! Indeed, dozens of trout from 20-28 inches were sauntering about in the shallow, grassy water. Bruce invited me to fish with him, so we both stalked one trout after another over the course of two to three hours. Bruce caught one that was about 25 inches, and I caught one smaller. That doesn't sound like much, but when you consider how thick the grass was, how many strikes we missed, and how many fish we broke off (I broke off on two myself), then you have some idea of the action that we enjoyed.

We went for world record ladyfish on the sand later in the day, and had the most incredible ladyfish action that I've seen in a year. Large schools of 1-3-pound fish were everywhere. I was trying to break the four-pound tippet record, and Bruce was trying to beat the 12 lb. tippet record, which is held jointly by myself and a gentleman from Florida. It would have made me happy if Bruce would have broken that record, but alas, he did not. For myself, I landed four nice ladies on the 4 lb. tippet, one of which came close to the 3+ pounds that I needed to reclaim my 4-lb. tippet world record that was supplanted a year ago. Maybe next time. It was a blast anyway.

Bruce and I returned to the same area at daybreak, hoping again for the full-blown Redfish Parade, but again the reds were nowhere to be seen. We contented ourselves with stalking the trout that were present again. I landed a 23-24 inch trout, and we both landed a single redfish. But the high point of the early morning was when Bruce stalked a 27-28 inch trout, and finally hooked her on a black VIP. For five seconds, he had her on, but she swepth through the thick grass and dislodged the hook. Bruce did everything right, but the conditions were nearly impossible for landing such a great fish.

The climax of the weekend came when we headed further north, and began to see reds and trout fleeing before the boat. So I came off plane, and poled Bruce for about half an hour. He got plenty of shots at spooky fish, which was fun but frustrating, too. Approaching a west shoreline, I suggested we check at area that is known to hold reds in the summer, during the low tides. As we got closer, I was delighted to see a large pod of tailing reds. Scanning the area more thoroughly, I could see that there were at least six groups of 20-50 reds tailing. By the time we'd slipped overboard and walked 50 yards closer, I was sure that we were in the presence of 1000 tailing redfish. Frolicking pods were all over the place! I called my friend Joe MacKay and his wife Debbie on the cell phone and urged them to come quickly. At one point, Joe hooked a huge sheepshead that was feeding near the podding reds. It surely a new state fly rod record, but it came loose at his feet.
For a while, we stalked one group after another. Bruce landed half a dozen reds, and stung as many more, before we headed for the dock. Meanwhile, I had a great time photographing the tailing action, as well as landing a couple of reds myself.

It was gift of immense proportions to encounter so many tailing pods in July.

7/18/05 The reason I have time to sit down and reflect on the past two weeks is because Hurricane Emily has given Kathy and me a few days off, as clients from South Carolina wisely opted to reschedule their trip to Kingfisher.

The fishing has been excellent, but the high tides and thunderstorms have made it challenging. Two weeks ago, Leo Connoly and his three buddies from Orange County -- Mel, Howard and Mike -- arrived on a Thursday and fished with Rick Hartman and myself for the next three days. It's always fun working alongside Rick, because we share information that gets our clients into the most favorable emerging opportunities. The Orange County group arrived at a time when the fishing was far from easy. Each morning dawned with a slight breeze that rose steadily through the day. However, by shifting with the conditions, we were able to find and catch fish on all three days. There was some good podding action happening, and some excellent white sand redfish action, too. We spent some time on the Mansfield Cut, as well, finding some reds patrolling the edges during the incoming tides. On one occasion, we had to run from a storm, and spotted this waterspout snaking toward the flats. By then, we were heading away from it, and could enjoy the stunning visual spectacle.

The day after the Connoly group left, I guided our old clients and friends -- also from Orange County -- Peter Koga and Dan Iwata. They came out to fish, but also to shoot some video for a Kingfisher promotional DVD that we will show at presentations, and send out to fly shops and prospective clients. We were blessed with calm mornings and low tides, so I hoped to find that the Redfish Parade -- a July and August phenomenon to die for, was "on." Sure enough, when we pulled into the area where the parade usually begins, the reds put on a show like I've rarely seen it. Of course, they sent the drum major ahead of the pack -- an 8 lb trout patrolling the flats alone -- while the reds assembled only 50 yards away. We spotted the trophy trout snaking through the grassy water as soon as the motor stopped, and in minutes Peter was overboard stalking the giant fish while Dan filmed her back and tail above the glassy water. Usually, these world-class trout mosey in the other direction, sensitive as they are to aggressive intrusions. But Peter took his time, and let the trout circle back to him. The most dramatic moment I've seen on the bay in some time took place moments later as Peter -- on his knees in a foot of water -- casted to the trout that was approaching head on. She struck once, then again, and finally a third time before the fish and angler were only 10 feet apart. She missed every time, and then scurried away as she picked up on Peter's presence. Having a big trout swim right up to you says that you've done everything right. The highest compliment with nothing to show for it, except some awesome footage that I can't wait to see.

Peter turned his attention to the incoming reds, and spent the next two hours casting to one redfish after another that were cruising on top with their backs and tails showing. The most difficult thing was presenting the VIP in a way that did not offend the fish. In the calm, sensitive conditions, it wasn't easy to do that. But after spooking a few fish, Peter settled into a groove, and went on to land a bunch of reds. Dan followed with the camera, while I coached Peter on the approach he needed to take. Since Peter was using a black VIP, the hookups were dramatic to say the least.

That evening, I took Dan back out for some birding action that was happening in a west-side lagoon. Dan had enjoyed this action the previous two trips, so it was like an anniversary event to wade into tailing reds and squalking laughing gulls. It was windy, the wading was almost impossible, but the action was fast and furious. I was the cameraman while Dan waded into the pods, and we got some great footage of him landing a red and a nice trout before we tired of the immense effort.

Kathy joined us the next day, and we went after big ladyfish on the sand. We got some good footage of Kathy spotting and catching trophy ladyfish on her six-weight. When Dan and Peter left, we all felt that we'd be blessed with incredible fishing conditions. We will have the DVD by September, when we go to the Denver Fly Fishing Retailers show.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of guiding Vince Wiseman and his buddy Roland. Vince is a regular Kingfisher guest from Austin, but Roland -- Vince's friend from medical school -- is from Mississippi. Although the tides were up, and we had to dodge storms and cloudy skies, we had a great day -- fishing mainly on the sand. Roland caught this beauiful red at daybreak out along the Padre Island shoreline, and Vince caught this sheepshead -- one of two that he caught -- near the East Cut. It was his personal best for sheepshead. Two in one day is a remarkable feat.

7/6/05 A very brief update. The tides are falling to summer levels. We're still finding some podding on the west side, but the single tailers are starting to predominate. Also, it's been hot near the edge of the ICW for reds and trout. The sand action picked up last weekend while I was guiding former client Dan Casso and his friend Kelly (and son Jonathan) from Houston. Dan caught several reds on the sand on Sunday after scoring a few early hits on the west side. Kelly and Jonathan were new to the sport, but they were fortunate to be able to stalk some pods of tailing reds on foot, and cast to tailing trout from the boat. Jonathan, who is 11, never tired of the action, even though it was tough for beginners, as always. At one point, I said to his Dad, "I'm really impressed that he's stuck with it. You can learn just about everything you need to know about someone just by putting a fly rod in his hand and watching to see what they do." Jonathan is one of those kids who has what it takes to meet life's challenges.

6/27/05 I had the pleasure of guiding Bill McBurney and Joe Rossi of "Ambassador Outdoors with Bill and Joe," a new Sportsman's Channel show that will debue this fall. We fished Thursday, Friday and Saturday on camera, and then Joe had to return to Pennsylvania on Sunday morning. So Bill and I went out for a few hours for fun.

The video shoot went pretty well, with Thursday standing out as the best day. We fished tailing reds for several hours on the west side, and got several hook-up-to-release sequences for the upcoming TV show. Then we went east and looked for reds, but the numbers that we'd been finding since early May were just not there. Typically, the midday sand action falls off as the waters warm, and the best times for finding the fish on the sand once that happens is early and late.

We got into some amazing ladyfish action on Friday after exhausting the west side action. Bill grew up in Florida and was used to catching small ladies, but he'd never sight casted to 2- to 3-pound specimens. At one point, he hooked into a certifiable 3+ pound fish, which is a world-record class ladyfish. It ran way, way into his backing before pulling the hook. Bill asked me, with some doubt, "Was that a ladyfish?! That was incredible!" All of us went on to land several fish in the 2+ pound range, and I don't think Bill and Joe would have ever left the flat if I hadn't pulled the plug.

The most amazing fishing happened, as you would imagine, after the camera was on its way east. Bill and I went into a lagoon that had been too shallow to fish for over a month, and we waded into abundant tailng redfish in the 25-28 inch range. We only landed three apiece, but broke off or lost several others. Bill was simply awed by the beauty of the place, and the incredible classic sight casting that we enjoyed for several hours. A rain shower blew through in the middle of our enjoyment, leaving us with this rainbow, which captured the sense of gratitude that we both felt.

6/21/05 The fishing continues to be excellent, with podding action on the west side early, and reds on the white sand after midmorning. Last Thursday, I guided Richard Skinner from Houston for the first time. We headed west and found tailing pods along the west shoreline. Starting off with a VIP, Richard stepped off the boat, waded a mere ten feet and waited for the first pair of reds to swim up to him. Missing two strikes, he turned toward the shoreline and had to make a difficult decision -- which pod to go after. They were spread out as far as we could see up and down the shoreline, tailing happily. After spooking a few fish in the dead calm conditions, Richard hooked up on a red that cruised up to him and took the VIP explosively. As it turned out, it was the first of about 10 fish (nine reds and one nice trout) that he landed before we went in at 1:00.

As the wind rose, and the fish stopped tailing at our venue, we headed elsewhere where we found even more pods of six to 30 fish tailing. Richard caught most of his fish by getting off the boat and stalking the pods. Here's a shot of him casting to a pod of about 25 reds.

We headed east by late morning, and fished on the white sand north of the Arroyo's mouth. He asked me to join him, so I waded with him for about an hour. We didn't land many more, but we had quite a few opportunities in glassy, foot-deep water. The reds have been on the sand almost daily since late April, at least, and it's just been intoxicating to cast to numerous fish in Bahama-like waters.

I guided two former clients from Arizona -- Dario Traivini and Jack Miller -- for three days following Richard's visit. We fished the same pattern every day -- west side podding action early, and cruising fish on the sand for the rest of the day. The two veterans caught a lot of fish, especially on Saturday when the podding was nonstop for several hours.

On Sunday, we decided to go after tarpon, so we headed to the East Cut and out into the inshore waters looking for feeding fish. It didn't take us long to find 30-50 lb. tarpon feeding on a bait ball about 200 yards off the beach. Jack had one rise to his fly soon after we arrived, and several almost jumped in the boat, coming half way out of the water within feet of the Curlew. But alas, we really weren't set up for success, and we failed to jump any of the fish before they tired of us floating through their midst. For Jack, the tarpon were the high point of his trip. I suspect that he'll come back for those fish, and that we'll be ready for them next time.

6/13/05 I don't have much time to update you, as I'm teaching summer school in between guiding (just for June). But I guided for the last three days, and I'll briefly bring you up to date.

On Friday, I guided Jay Forrest and Andy Niland from the Alamo Fly Fishers in San Antonio. We had a pretty fine day on the water, starting off with a double hookup before the sun had risen -- casting to a large pod under birds. It wasn't a high catching day, but both anglers landed some nice reds, and each of them broke off on a large red while fishing the white sand. The sand never "turned on" where we fished, however, so the opportunities were spaced out. Jay ended up the day catching this beautiful fish during the last five minutes on the sand.

I guided Doug Gauntt and his buddy Dick, both from Dallas. Kathy and I have hosted Doug and his wife Connie on two occasions already, and Doug is a Laguna Madre veteran, having fished the bay for several years. So when they asked me to join them with my fly rod, I gladly consented.

Saturday dawned with low winds, and we were rewarded for our early departure with podding reds on the west side. For about three hours, we casted to pods and individual fish, and ended up landing about 13 reds before heading east. We caught a few more fish, but the east side action wasn't as turned on as much as I'd hoped.

However, Sunday brought a reversal. It was very windy early, and the pods were nowhere to be found on the west side. Only one fish was landed before 10:00. But we headed east, and got into a passel of reds near the East Cut, landing 20 or so before noon. We would have caught more but the clouds were a problem for half the time. Then we headed south on the sand, and caught another nine or 10 more before calling it a day. It was remarkable, classic white sand action. The fish hammered small Clousers whenever we'd get it within three feet of them.

We all caught about the same number of fish -- 9 to 11 apiece. It was pretty awesome day, needless to say.

5/31/05 I hadn't fished for fun in two weeks, so I was more than ready for it. My brother Chip and his son Spencer joined me, along with Spencer's buddy from Colorado, Taylor. We headed to a westside venue early, hoping to find tailing pods; and sure enough they were there. For about four hours, we waded into one pod after another. There were single tailing reds, too, so the action was just about nonstop. By my estimates, we caught 17 reds and three trout on a variety of flies, beginning with VIPs, and then switching to Mother's Day flies and Clousers by midmorning.

Then we headed east for the white sand (shown), and fished for another two hours. It was dead calm, and usually it's very hard to get close enough to the fish to make a presentation. But for some reason -- probably because they were feeding head down -- we managed to do remarkably well, landing 12 more and pricking another dozen fish. It was one of those stunningly beautiful days on the Lower Laguna -- 29 redfish and three nice trout landed in six hours of fishing.

Taylor had never fly fished in saltwater, but did really well, landing four reds. He was overwhelmed by the beauty of the white sand, comparing it to photos he's seen of the Bahamas. As you can see, the water was gin clear, and dead calm -- an especially challenging scenario for fly fishing.

5/29/05 The fishing has been excellent, characterized by tailing pods on the west side at daybreak, and fish streaming onto the white sand by late morning or midday. I had the pleasure of guiding Kent Hamilton and his son Rhodes yesterday and today. This was Kent's third trip to Kingfisher, and Rhodes' second visit.

We targeted tailing pods early and were not disappointed. Arriving in a west side lagoon before sunrise, we could barely make out gulls working over redfish. I poled downwind to where we were only 100 feet from 30 reds that were feedging actively on shrimp. I recommended using shrimp patterns or spoon flies, since it was pretty windy and the noise of a popper could easily go unnoticed by the head-down feeding fish. Both anglers approached the pod (shown here), and both had strikes. Alas Rhodes lost his on a Kingfisher spoon, and Kent landed the first redfish of the day on a weighted shrimp pattern. It was, however, difficult wading on the boggy bottom, so we watched more tails than we casted to.

Once the sun rose high enough, we headed east onto the sand. The wind had died somewhat, creating a slick sheen on the gin-clear water, making it difficult for the anglers to spot the reds in the midmorning light. However, the wind rose, and so did the sun, allowing Rhodes and Kent to witness the white sand "turn on." For a while, the guys enjoyed one shot after another, and landed several fish before the wind began to affect the water's clarity. We ran south into clearer water, and got into some ladyfish action before it was time to go in.

The Hamiltons had less time to fish on Sunday due to their flight schedule, but we put in over seven hours, dividing the time between the west side and the white sand, once again. I'd given three of our BYOB guests led by Don Jones from Corpus the heads-up on the podding action, so I took the Hamiltons elsewhere, hoping we'd find fish on a better wading flat. We had slim pickings early, and then headed for the east side by 9:00, which is bit early for the sun's angle. Rhodes caught a couple before the water conditions deteriorated in the high wind, so we headed south for clearer water. Thinking that we'd only find some ladyfish, I stopped at one of the most beautiful venues on the white sand, and urged the guys to wade downwind toward an old channel drilling that was cut 40 years ago. As they got closer to the channel, Rhodes began spotting redfish streaming into the area from the west. In only about 45 minutes, he landed four more reds, including this beauty.

It wasn't easy fish, by any means. But the Hamiltons showed what can be done with a little experience and a lot of willingness on the Mother Lagoon.

Don and his buddies from Corpus enjoyed "story book" fly fishing for both days. They caught numerous reds up to 28 inches, a couple of dozen ladyfish, and one sheepshead (by Don) that would have been a new state fly rod record if it had been properly documented -- all on Mother's Day Flies. Indeed, they almost cleaned us out of our Mother's Day supply (thanks to the assistance of the ladyfish that broke off many of their flies).

5/24/05 So much to tell, and so little time. Skipper Ray and Rick Hartman joined me Friday through Sunday as we hosted Aran Dukovna from Sierra Fly Fishers in LA, along with five of his fly fishing buddies. They chose the most beautiful three-day period we've had all year -- winds from 5-10 mph until late afternoon, and cloudless skies. Not only did we have beautiful conditions, but the fish were very, very cooperative.

I returned to the shallow flat I'd visited the day before (see below), knowing that Rick was planning to fish my other choice. Skipper went after big trout with his guys. I found the sweeping pods again with my two guys, Michael and George. Meanwhile, Rick really got into the reds in bootie deep water with Bob and Aran, while Skipper and his group casted to trophy trout, hooking one but losing it.

The red VIP proved effective for Aran and Bob, as they caught several reds early. After my guys pounded the pods for a while -- with Michael landing his first two reds on the fly -- we headed east where we found several schools of reds -- one with about 300 fish in it. We couldn't chase them around very effectively with fly rods, though, so we headed north where we joined Skipper's group on the white sand. Several fish were caught there before the day was up.

On Saturday, Rick and I caravaned into the area where he'd fished the previous day. We broke up a school on the way in, so we shut down, and poled downwind toward the area where we'd seen them. It was hard to believe what we found -- a couple of hundred redfish tailing in small groups, and sauntering across the shallow flat with their backs out of the water. Rick and his two guys hammered the reds on VIPs, while my guys waded parallel and casted to one tailing group after another. It was story book fishing, but after about two hours, the reds moved out. I headed back to the sand, where we found a few fish before the day was over.

Sunday proved to be disappointing in the lagoon where Rick and I'd fished the day before, but we found pods working in another locale. We called Skipper, who joined us with his group. We poled downwind for two hours, casting to pods, and catching several reds. Then, I left the area first and headed east for the white sand. When we planed over the edge of the sand, redfish scattered in all directions. I got on the phone and called Skipper, who promptly joined us for the most incredible white sand action I've seen in a year or more. One of Skipper's guys -- Bob -- "lost count" of the reds he landed over the next several hours. Both of my guys -- Aran and Bernie -- had dozens of shots and landed several fish.

I had Monday off, but guided Mark Barnett from Houston, and his uncle Wayne from Farmington, New Mexico. They had brought their own boat, but after a fruitless Monday, they asked me to guide them on Tuesday. So we went out early, and targeted tailing pods on the west side four about three hours before heading east onto the sand.

We found a few pods on the west side, all right, but they were hard to approach from the boat. In his first three trips to the Texas Coast, Wayne had never landed a red, so Mark was intent on Wayne having every opportunity. No pressure, of course, fishing off the front of a boat with a hand-wringing nephew and an overly attentive guide. But Wayne managed to hook up, and then lose his first red after a few shots. Mark had a turn, and landed the first redfish of the day.

We headed east, hoping to find the incredible action that we enjoyed on Sunday -- and we weren't disappointed. Over the course of the next four hours, Wayne caught his first redfish on a fly, and followed that up with 11 more! Mark was hooked up almost constantly for the first couple of hours, having one shot after another. They guys caught all of their 25 or so fish on Clousers -- tan and white, chartreuse and white, and green and white.

Our fellow LMFFA member and friend Gary Bacon and his buddy Bob from Ketchum, Idaho, hired me to take them out today. We headed back to the same westside area where I've been finding tailing pods, and the action was intense. We would pole downwind, spot a pod, and then stalk the fish on foot, using red and orange VIP poppers. (By the way, the fly company that now ties the VIP commercially -- FLY H2O --has sold the VIP to the two Texas Cabelas stores! Obviously, we're tickled about that.)

It was almost constant action until 10 am. Both anglers landed a half dozen reds apiece out of pods ranging in size from 6 to 50 fish. Indeed, one of the pods looked like a breaking wave as it approached. Here's Bob hooking up after waiting patiently for the phalanx of redfish to approach within casting distance.

We headed for the sand a while later, where Gary handily landed two more reds before we called it a day. It was, needless to day, a very fine day on the water.

5/19/05 I have been out of town for the week, and off the water. Before that, I was running around getting ready to leave in between guiding, so it was hard to find time to post an update to the fishing report. But I hit the ground (water, that is) running today as I guided my old client and friend Jim Posgate. Our mutual friend and Arroyo City neighbor John Kautsch joined Jim. We headed to the west side at daybreak, spending about two hours in one of my favorite redfish locales. The wind was over 10 mph at dawn, so it was hard to see the fish in the low light. But John got into a groove, and landed four reds on an orange VIP popper before we headed elsewhere. Jim, who usually catches a passel of fish whenever I take him out was a bit perplexed, but he didn't let it get him down. About an hour later, after checking a couple of other west side venues, and swinging out onto the white sand, we ducked into another west side lagoon that was nearly prohibitively shallow. Indeed, I took a look at my muddy wake and decided to vacate the premises when we ran upon several pods that were breaking up from the boat noise. I shut down, knowing that I could be facing a 300 yard trek to get to water deep enough to "get up" in.
    We waded out onto the clear, firm flat, with only a single boat -- a fellow fly fishing guide -- a half mile to the north. At first, it seemed that the pods had evaporated, but after about 20 minutes of wading, the pods suddenly began popping up. The water was only eight inches deep -- and it was crystal clear -- so it was easy to see the fish coming, with tails and backs breaking the water as they fed head down.
    Jim got into his customary groove, and hooked five nice reds up to 25 inches long, landing all but one of them. John did well, too, catching several more. We discovered that most of the pods were sweeping toward us from upwind, making an otherwise perfect situation a bit more challenging. The guys had to swing around the approaching pods, and then cast crosswind to them. It was great watching them execute on a stunningly beautiful flat.
    While Jim was casting to a pod of about 12 reds, I saw these (see photo) two fish approaching head down, so I crouched down and waited with my camera. They came within 15 feet of me before they spooked. It just goes to show how close you can get to the fish -- when you're paitent, that is.
    When we got back to the Curlew, the guys saw how shallow it was -- bootie deep -- and prepared to help me push the boat toward deeper water. However, I thought that we should give the Curlew a chance to show her stuff. Half a turn later, we were on plane and headed for home. It was, in all ways, a perfect day on the water.

4/27/05 It may be hard to believe that a person living on the water and making his living as a guide can go four months without a day of personal fishing. But between teaching, guiding, and writing, Kathy and I have had little time to fish for fun. But today, after breakfast and our hour-long meditation, we went with our dogs, Opal and Lily. My interest was to go after big trout, while Kathy -- who was recovering from a cold -- only wanted to read and write aboard the Curlew.

We went to one of my favorite big trout spots. I rarely take clients there, only because few of our clients want to target big trout. And anyway, it's a tough wade. I tied on a weighted Mother's Day fly and started a wade down one of most famous stretches of trophy trout water on the Texas coast. I stripped line and casted off to the side as I scanned the shallow, clear water for the telling dark shadows of monster trout. I'd only gone fifty feet when I hooked up on a nice 21" trout -- not a trophy, but a fine catch on a fly rod. I walked back to the boat so Kathy could take a picture, and then resumed wading. It was the last trout I saw, but I had some good action on big reds that were cruising the same area. After landing two, Kathy and I headed east for the edge of the sand.

I've never seen the sand "action" better than it was today. As we headed east, we ran over so many fish that we stopped just short of the sand. I began wading downwind under a cloudless sky. The water was beautifiully clear, and full of life. Ladyfish were darting around, and sting rays where cruising in every direction. I soon started to see redfish everywhere -- crabbing head down, or following rays. It's unusual to be brought to a standstill on the east side, because the fish are usually spread out; but I had so many opportunities that I almost stopped moving altogether. Despite the almost constant opportunities, the fish were on high alert. I'd see a ray and a couple of reds coming from 50 yards out, and I'd crouch, waiting for them to come within range. As soon as they were inside of 80 feet, I'd stand up to cast. And almost every time, the reds would turn away instantly. I landed two in the 24-25 inch range, but had shots at 20 to 30 reds that simply saw me first. I love that action, because it brings the best out of you.

We didn't fish very long, because we had appointments back at the lodge. And anyway, our friend Jim Posgate needed us to tow him in, because his outboard wouldn't start up. Except for Jim's misfortune, it was a wonderful day on the water. The bay is fishing so well -- as good or better than 2003 and 2004, which were the best years we've seen since opening Kingfisher.

4/25/05 I guided John and Brad Nicholson from California and Seattle this past weekend. They came in on Wednesday and fished with our associate Capt. Rick Hartman on Thursday. Following the podding action, Rick put them on fish for the entire time, and the guys started off with "at least 15 reds," even though neither man is inclined to count, as I found out during the next three days. Friday and Saturday proved to be "an embarassment of riches," as John put it. Friday dawned almost calm, and when we arrived at our destination at first light, gulls were already over fish -- the "X" that marked the spot. Brad waded while his dad remained on the boat, still recovering from hip surgery. The action was constant for almost six hours. Brad is a kite boarder, so the guys went in at lunch time so that Brad could catch the wind down at Holly Beach. A cold front came in early Saturday morning, so after a brief foray, we decided to return to Kingfisher, and go back out in the afternoon. It was a wise choice, as it turned out. The birding action was stunning. At one point, we were surrounded by pods -- and other wading anglers who hoped to get in on the action. As it turned out, there was plenty for everyone. Brad and John caught over 15 for the third straight day.

On Sunday, Kathy joined us with her two clients from Aspen, and we fully expect to get back into the podding action. But the birds and the fish weren't working, at least in the main area where we've concentrated our efforts. Brad caught one out of a pod that everyone had overlooked before Kathy and I took our respective clients south to search for individual tailing redfish. I headed for a remote area that is often good in April and May, and sure enough there were reds tailing all around us. Brad caught one on a VIP, and his Dad snagged a nice one from the boat on a Kingfisher spoon fly. But that was it for us, so we headed in after five hours, as we'd agreed on. Kathy took her clients to one of her favorite spots, and they stalked tails over turtle grass for another couple of hours before heading back to Kingfisher.

The water is gradually clearing on the west side, and areas to the south of the Arroyo are almost completely clear of the brown tide. I really haven't noticed it.

4/16/05 People have been calling and asking about the brown tide. It's still on the west side, but it hasn't impacted the fishing very much at all. We've been casting spoon flies and Clousers to the tailing pods and having great catching days. (I haven't used poppers much because of the lack of clarity.) Then, if the podding every subsides, we've been going east onto the sand, where the water is unaffected, and where there's has been plenty of fish. So, there's not a problem. I don't have to guide to survive, so if the brown tide was reason to stay away, I'd tell you. Actually, it's even clear enough on the west side to be sight casting when the sun is out. So, while the brown tide creates a buttery color to the water, and reduces its clarity, you can still see through it enough to spot fish. And further, the reds can see the fly just fine, even though they're prone to have tunnel vision when podding.

I guided on Wednesday and Friday (yesterday), and the fishing was very good. On Wednesday, I guided my old client and good friend Jim Posgate from Kerrville who has a place near us on the Arroyo. Jim and I went out just after daybreak, and fished one tailing pod after another until it was time to go in. Jim hooked about 10 reds, and landed seven. At one point, he said, "Scott, this is too easy." Of course, it's not always easy, and rarely is it too easy. But if you pay your dues like Jim does -- by going out regularly under a variety of conditions -- then you become adept at exploiting the opportunities that arise.

Yesterday, I guided Hector Guerra from Pharr. Hector has recently taken up saltwater fly fishing, and was still looking for that first redfish on a fly. Before the sun had even risen, we were wading down toward a bunch of gulls working over a sizeable group of reds. As Hector got close to the tails, the fish turned toward him and came right up to him. Hector crouched low to the water, and started making 15 foot casts into the tails. Just before they blew up, he hooked up on what turned out to be a nice trout.

We moved on and located several pods of tailing reds, in a variety of areas. Hector missed a strike in the second pod, but finally hooked up and landed a fat redfish out of our third pod. He went on the land another a while later, and have several shots are groups of happily tailing reds. It was, and always it, an inspiring sight to see the tails flickering in the sunlight, and the gulls fighting over the escaping shrimp. As I said in an article that I wrote for Tide Magazine recently, "Just being there is usually enough for me."

4/11/05 As I headed out on Saturday morning with Doug and Connie Gauntt from Dallas, I had this sinking feeling that the few pods of redfish that would be working would be closely chaperoned by a few of my guide friends. Sure enough, as we approached podding mecca, I could see some of my buddies already poling down to a very few pods. The tides were so low that I thought the fish couldn't be in the back lagoons, and I was right. We planed into one to take a look, and there was nothing working. Heading north with a 20 mph tailwind, I wasn't sure what to do next. Then, suddenly, a flock of laughing gulls appeared in an unexpected place. Clearly, they were working over reds, so I pulled over and staked the boat, so Connie and Doug could wade into the area. Thirty minutes later, Connie had caught her first redfish on a fly rod, and Doug had landed four fish on his own. The day was definitely looking up! Actually, the best was still to come. I took a deep breath and pointed the Curlew north toward a distant venue that I'd heard had been producing. A while later, we we started wading downwind across an extremely shallow flat where the water was barely deep enough to hold fish. The wind was over 20 mph, and gusting to above 25. But the redfish didn't seem to mind the wind. And what's more, they were tailing as they fed upwind, giving us a chance to get into position. Connie caught three more on spoon flies, and Doug caught six or seven more reds on a Mother's Day fly. For a while, the opportunities were almost constant. I thought to myself that we were in one of the few places on the entire LLM where fish could be seen.

If Saturday's conditions were bleak, Sunday's weather was ever worse. Stronger winds greeted us at daybreak, along with thick low clouds. The wind actually abated a bit later in the day, and the clouds thinned out, as well. But it didn't matter, because we fished one pod after another for the entire day. Doug caught 8 or so reds and at least as many trout, and Connie caught a nice red out of a tailing pod (she was pretty happy about Saturday's results, and spent a good bit of time cheering Doug on). They would have caught more if the fish could have seen their flies, but the water was so churned up from the wind that they had to cast up to 20 times before a fish would see the fly.

I spent about an hour and a half pushing the Curlew across a shallow flat. I made the mistake of poling down to five pods of reds that were on the edge of a long, shallow flat covered with only 4 inches of water. Instead of seeing the threat, I kept poling the Curlew toward near-disaster, and found myself trapped with a 20+ mph wind at my back. Fortunately, I was able to push the boat over the flat, but only barely. I felt pretty bad about losing part of our day, but Doug and Connie still caught so many fish that they probably won't remember our "little break" around midday. Later, I found that Skipper Ray had gotten stuck, too. The combination of extremely low tides and the brown tide made it hard for us to assess the depth of some of our favorite places.

"Connie was thrilled to catch her first red on a fly and I still can not believe how many fish we caught under such miserable conditions. Scott, a special thanks to you for your hard work
in keeping us on fish and getting in two solid days of fishing when most
folks (guides & fishermen) would not have gone out." -- Doug Gauntt

4/8/05 I have been gravely remiss in failing to keep you apprised of the fishing conditions on the LLM. But a greater error is in failing to report the AWESOME GOOD NEWS pertaining to our guests of last weekend -- Todd Decker and Christina Spiller from Austin. Todd arranged ahead of time for us to cooperate with his secret agenda of the weekend, which was to propose to Tina on the water at sundown on Saturday. "What if she says 'no'?" I asked Kathy. "She probably won't," Kathy said, to reassure me. Still, I was a bit nervous. At an agreed-upon time, I left Tina to fish on her own, while Todd waded over with the ring in his pocket. Later, Tina admitted that she was irritated that he was coming over to talk as she stalked a nearby tailing redfish. But when Todd's intent was made clear, Tina did not seem to mind. Kathy and I were tickled to have played a small part in such an important event in their lives. Congratulations to Todd and Tina!

And the fishing was pretty good, too. Although the tides were too low for podding action on the west side, we got into great redfish action on the east side, along the transition between the grass and the sand. Reds were cruising singly and in small groups, providing some classic action.

Today, I guided Jeff Coombes and his buddy Chris Tipton from Austin. We left early enough to reach the pods before the crowd, which never materialized. It was dead calm as we entered one of the westside lagoons, and we circled upwind of several groups of laughing gulls that were seated on the water. Our friend Richard Weldon was fishing a client near a couple of the pods, so my guys waded toward a couple of other pods. As Jeff approached the seated birds, suddenly tails erupted. Casting his VIP masterfully into the leading edge of the sweeping fish, he hooked on a nice red. Chris chased the remnants of the pod fruitlessly, and the podding action was suddenly over. We headed north into a westside venue where we waded for two hours in virtually calm conditions. Tailing redfish were everywhere, but they were extremely sensitive, and almost impossible to approach. Still, it was a challenge that neither angler complained about.

Later in the day, we found redfish streaming onto the white sand. The east side action has been very reliable over the past month. Given the fact that the brown tide is still prevalent on the west wide, it's a relief that there have been plenty of fish in the clear, eastside water. That's all for now. Two more days of guiding, and I'll update you again.

3/27/05 Friday and Saturday proved to be classic spring action on the Lower Laguna. On Friday, Kathy and I team guided Jeff Pittsbarger and his partner Stephanie from Houston. Jeff had wanted Stephanie to get a taste of saltwater fly fishing, and wanted to optimize her chances by having Kathy work closely with her while I handled the boat and worked with him.

We left the dock a little later than I'd hoped, and as we planed slowly (with four people aboard) down the Arroyo, three fellow guides passed us, heading I was sure to the same areas where reds had been podding in various locales.

As we planed into one area, a fellow fly fishing guide led the way and shut down, obvious spotting redfish working. We looped upwind of him and shut down, and began poling downwind. For the next three or four hours, we went from one tailing pod to another, carefully giving quarter to two other guides, who were also poling clients toward various tailing pods. Jeff caught four reds on Kingfisher Spoon flies wading into the pods, while Stephanie landed her first red on a Kingfisher Spoon by casting from the front of the Curlew.

With the water rising, several places that have been too shallow to fish have come alive with shrimp and redfish, so we headed to two other lagoons where we hoped to find pods. We found a few tailing reds in the first venue, but caught none; so we headed elsewhere. The reds weren't podding or tailing in the second venue, but we could see them swimming across a shallow flat upwind, creating a clearly visible wake. So we spread out and tried to intercept them. They seemed psychic, however, and would veer right or left before they reached us. Jeff and I stood and watched at least 20 reds -- singles and pairs -- pass just out of range of his cast. It was fun to see them so clearly, however, especially on a cloudy, windy afternoon.

The next morning, I guided Jeff and Stehanie alone. Since it was Saturday, I assumed that everyone and his brother would be working the more accessible lagoons, so we returned to the place where we'd seen the waking reds the previous afternoon. This time the reds were clearly leaving the lagoon. We could see singles and small groups coming from over 100 yards away. They were big fish driving a visible wake. I've faced this action many times in this particular place, but it's hard to catch them. They're on their way out, and will eat, but they're going so fast that it's hard to intercept them. So after casting Kingfisher Spoons fruitlessly to a couple of dozen passing fish, we headed for the area we'd gone to first on Friday. Expecting a flotilla of shallow water boats, I was surprised to see only one boat within sight. We were soon into tailing pods, and able to see several more within reach. We went from one pod to the next until almost midday, sharing the area with only three other anglers over the span of five hours. There were plenty of pods to go around. Stephanie distinguished herself by catching three reds and a trout -- all on spoons.

The sun came out as the podding action subsided at midday, so we eagerly headed east to see if the white sand was clear of brown tide. There was hardly any sign of it on the sand. The water was sparking clear, and the sky was cloudless. After we'd run over reds, trout and ladyfish, I shut off the motor. We began to wade downwind in water that was about 17 inches deep. Walking beside Stephanie, I soon spotted a string ray with a fish tailing it. Stephanie was able to get her fly to the fish, which turned out to be a 22-23 inch trout that followed the Mother's Day Fly before turning off. It was so close that it had probably seen us.

I left Stephanie to fish alone, and went to help Jeff spot the fish. After a few minutes, we spotted a hoard of ladyfish behind a ray. Jeff got the fly to them, and hooked up briefly. The fishshot out of the water, and threw the fly -- the rule rather than the exception for a ladyfish. Meanwhile, Stephanie casted to another fish behind a ray, and several ladyfish, as well.

The fishing was superb. I've said to many people that late March and the whole month of April provides some of the least difficult and most productive fly fishing of the year. Even though they're known as windy months, it doesn't matter much when you have redfish podding -- often under birds, and fish on the sand on sunny days. You learn to adjust to the wind, and then you don't worry about it any more.

3/20/05 When I looked out the window this morning, fog blanketed the Arroyo, and the wind was neglible. It was one of those magical days in the making after a week of difficult weather conditions. Guiding Tom and Debbie Adams from Orange County, California -- and their grandson David -- I planed slowly down the Arroyo through the thin fog knowing that if we could make it safely to the bay, the odds were that we'd have it to ourselves, at least until the sun burned through the fog. I gave the dredge operation at the mouth of the Arroyo a wide birth, and then headed north keeping the west shoreline in sight. A while later, I turned off the ICW and headed into the fog toward an area where the reds often pod up in late March and April. Making a wide circle so we'd be upwind of the hoped-for action, I shut down and listened. The competitive cries of laughing gulls informed us that pods of redfish were feeding in three directions, so I began poling toward the loudest voices until we saw the birds seated on the water. The wind was too low to keep the birds aloft, and to the unitiated it may have looked like just a bunch of gulls engaged in premating rituals. But as we got closer, we could see that the gulls were excorting groups of tailing reds that were driving shrimp to the surface.

The brown tide still pervades the west side lagoons (even though it seems to be dissipating) so catching a red on a fly or a lure requires a precise presentation, due to the limited visibility. Six inches away from a tailing red is usually too much, as they have their heads down the whole time; but in the brown tide, six inches is "a miss that is as good as a mile." So you need a bit of luck along with a dead-accurate cast. We approached three pods by boat, hooking two reds that way. But then, we decided to stalk the largest pod -- a group of about 30 reds -- on foot. Debbie and Tom were privileged to have the entire group sweep toward them, leaving the birds hanging back from the human intruders. I imagined that I could hear Debbie's and Tom's hearts racing as they desparately tried to get their presentations in front of the sweeping reds. But as it so often happens, the tails swept by without a take. We had a couple of more opportunities before the sun broke through the fog, and the reds dispersed. We were the only boat in the area for three hours, which is pretty remarkable for a Sunday morning.

Once the pods broke up, we headed east and south into the clear water where we found pods and schools of reds in clear, glassy water. The northeast wind was dying and shifting to the east -- and we couldn't get close to the fish from the boat. So we called it a day and went in, declaring the day nearly perfect in every way.

3/12-3/13/05 I guided Harry Wilson from Montana, and his buddy Steve Brown from Phoenix on Friday through Sunday. It was tough fishing. We started on Friday, the day after Jim Posgate and I enjoyed a perfect day on the water. Nature likes to mix it up to keep us from getting lazy, but I was hoping for a better hand than the one we were dealt on Friday. We ended up coming in after the wind rose and the clouds returned. Saturday was a pretty good day, with both anglers landing reds, and having plentry of shots. We started off thinking we'd hit the jackpot. We found gulls working over reds, and it looked like we were going to get shots at one pod after another. But after casting to our first tailing pod, the birds -- and the fish apparently -- dispersed, leaving us feeling a bit cheated. We fished the sun near the East Cut and had a few quality opportunitites. Steve lost a nice fish up that way. Heading back south, we ran over a passel of reds, so we poled the edge of the sand and had one shot after another. But the wind came up pretty strong -- over 20 by the time we went in. So, it was hard to get the fly on them from the boat. We left that venue, and found some fish on the white sand, where we waded for a couple of hours in the early afternoon. Harry hooked two there, and Steve hooked one. Not a high numbers day, but it was better than a lot of days we've had lately. Sunday was a bust, with cloudy conditions and a strong southwest wind at dawn. We were in by 10 a.m.

3/11/05 Yesterday, I guided my old client and friend Jim Posgate from Kerrville. Jim has a way of catching fish whenever we go out, but the conditions have been unstable; so I wasn't sure his good fortune would prevail. The day dawned almost without a breeze, and the sky was cloudless. Not your usual March morning, when the norm is windy and cloudy. We went to a westside lagoon that was largely untouched by the brown tide, and found some nice reds in about eight inches of water. After spooking several from the boat, we got out and waded toward a bunch of Forester terns that were diving on bait. We could see some wakes that indicated that game fish were sharing the bounty; so Jim carefully waded into the area. A big wake surged toward him, and he dropped his Kingfisher spoon on the red's head. True to form, Jim was hooked up before the sun had hardly risen. It was a nice 26"+ fish, and a great way to start the day. We found the rest of the west side blanketed with brown tide, and no pods were evident. So we headed east and north, and spent the rest of the day poling and wading the white sand between the Mansfield Cut and Green Island. We had more opportunities than the number of landed fish would indicate; but the reds were often upwind of us. So it was challenging. It was a great day, and the conditions could not have been better.

3/7/05 The bay is recovering! I guided Butch Harper from Ketchum, Montana, today. We went north and ducked into several venues, looking for podding redfish under birds. The brown tide was pervasive from the mouth of the Arroyo north to the end of Payton's Bay. We found birds working, and a few tails beneath them, but the podding action has not "turned on," yet. As we approached each pod, the birds quickly dispersed, and all we'd see was a single tail or so before having to move on to the next group of birds.

We finally gave up on that fickle action, and headed east, hoping to find clear water. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the east side was clear at least a mile from the edge of Padre Island. We poled the Island shelf, and had a few shots at single and double cruisers. The water was gin clear. We lost the sun, so we headed further south and found the entire east side as clear as ever, from Dunkin's house the edge of the Island. Indeed, there wasn't any sign of brown tide on the east side of Three Islands. What a relief. Still, because the sun behind the clouds, I headed west again, hoping to find tailing pods working the brown shrimp. We didn't find that, but we found some pretty water in Rattlesnake Bay that held a few big reds. We poled over several, then got out and waded, getting several shots at single reds cruising visibly up a shallow shoreline.

The action wasn't fast and furious, but it was good enough to celebrate. It feels that the season has begun.

2/27/05 There's good news and bad news. Redfish have already started podding on the west side, and some birding action has already been observed. It's early for that to be happening. Also, fish have been found on the sand, as well. As for the bad news, there has been a brown tide outbreak since late January. I didn't interpret the off-colored water as a brown tide when it first started to appear down here in early February, but biologists have confirmed the outbreak. A brown tide does not harm the fish, but it does ruin the water clarity until the tides flush it from the estuary. (I haven't had to deal with it, since I have been busy finishing up a book, titled Healing the Fisher King: A Fly Fisher's Quest, and getting it off the publisher. Hopefully, when I resume guiding this coming week, we'll have had some reduction in the brown tide.)

It's my understanding that there are different brown tides, and the biologists haven't yet positively identified this organism as the same one that affected the bay during the 1990s. For instance, according to Tony Reisinger (who wrote the report below), the Arroyo has its own brown tide in the early spring. It didn't happen last year, but it did occur during the previous several years. It lasts for only two or three weeks, and affects only the immediate area around the mouth of the Arroyo, like Rattlesnake Bay and the Green Island basin.

Here is Agricultural Extension agent (and LMFFA Board member) Tony Reisinger's report:

The most recent Brown Tide bloom originated in Baffin Bay around the last week in January '05. The following paragraph is a verbatim report from Cindy Contreras with TPWD. She sent this to the Hazardous Algal Bloom Work Group on 2/2/05:

"Water samples taken this week in Baffin Bay showed a bloom of what is almost certainly "brown tide", Aureoumbra lagunensis. This is a small microscopic phytoplankton species which has bloomed for prolonged periods in the Laguna Madre (e.g., almost continuously from 1990
through the mid-1990s). One of the major concerns about brown tide is that it can form dense blooms that shade and kill seagrasses, which are prime habitat for many fish species and other marine organisms."

The bloom was pushed through the land cut presumably by northers and into the Lower Laguna in February. It has been detected as far south as Holly Beach where we have had low cell counts of .5 million / ml, compared to counts exceeding 10 million / ml in the 1990's for the same
area.

Paul Bergh is correct that no shrimp farms have discharged this year and the Arroyo Colorado's municipal, industrial, and ag runoff may be fertilizing the bloom. Port Mansfield has an extremely heavy bloom in the port area. The Laguna north of Mansfield has a heavy bloom and
south of Mansfield the densities seem greater on the west side. There have been some clear areas reported on the east side of the Laguna south of east cut.

Randy Blankinship with TPWD took water samples this week in the Mansfield area and has sent them to Dr Tracy Villareal with UTMSI in Port Aransas for analysis. So far this bloom has pretty much caused us to throw out the old theories of a heavy freeze knocking out brown tide
grazers and fertilizing the bloom with ammonia derived from a massive fish kill. Even the theory of the bloom following a drought is no longer valid because we've had two prior wet years.

One thing we do know is there is evidence in core samples spanning a thousand years showing alternating dominance of phytoplankton blooms (brown tide?) and sea grasses in the Laguna Madre. We also know the Laguna is resilient and recovers quickly from this type of perturbation. A saving grace for the South Padre area is the tremendous tidal
exchange from Brazos Santiago Pass that should keep the bloom diluted to some extent in the southern laguna.

Fishing has been impacted in that fish cannot see artificial baits in heavy brown tide concentrations. There are still plenty of fish to be caught and many anglers are using natural baits with great success. Artificials can still be used in clear water areas on the east and
southern portions of the bay.

The final impact on sea grasses remains to be determined and we could see an impact on bivalves which are filter feeders that derive little nutrition from brown tide.

I hope this sheds some light on this mysterious phenomenon.

Tony Reisinger
Cameron County Marine Extension Agent

2/20/05 The bay continues to be a harsh mistress. The water is off color, and very high. I guided our old clients and friends Jim and Kerrie Stephenson yesterday. The last time they'd been here together was on 9/11. Kathy met us at the dock on that fateful day, and gave us the unbelievable news. Jim and Kerrie stayed over an extra night on that occasion, as their flight was cancelled.

Yesterday was a much better day globally, but not locally. The day started off very promising, with not a breath of wind. We poled a remote westside lagoon that had some redfish in it. But not a single fish poked its tail above the dead calm surface. We left there as the wind began to rise, and headed south. We found redfish on the east side, but the water was just a bit off color, so we'd pole right up to them before we'd see them. I spoke with Skipper Ray by phone, as we often do when we're both guiding. He was fishing South Bay and -- like us -- had seen fish. But the lighting was bad there, as it was in the cental part of the LLM. So he was fishless, too, at that point.

We ran south and north, finding the clear water of the far east side to be devoid of fish. And then the wind and the clouds turned the central and west bay into a muddy inland sea. We headed back to the dock around noon.

The high point of the weekend was eating at Pepe's in Harlingen, and having nightly Scrabble tournaments. We're going to have to wait a couple of more weeks before the shrimp bring the podding redfish into the westside lagoons.

As you may know, I've written articles in national magazines about how good the winter fishing can be down here. The telling phrase is "can be." Actually, last year -- and this year so far -- have been particularly poor winters for fly fishing. I wish it wasn't so, but that's Nature for you.

2/9/05 If you're suffering from cabin fever, and yearn to be fly fishing the flats of the pristine Lower Laguna, this might be the time to take care of other things, because you haven't been missing much lately. Typically, from the middle of January until March, the cold fronts stack up to the point where there's hardly any recovery in between them. Sure, we have remarkable fishing during that time -- catching some of our largest reds and trout, historically -- but overall, the conditions are usually not favorable. For instance, we've had cloudy weather for about two weeks, even though some of the days have been in the 80s. To do well in the winter, you need full sunshine, low tides, and a southeast wind. We've had no more than one of these positive factors on any given day over the last ten days. Even the tides, which are usually very low this time of year, have resembled March tides.
    I guided Larry Allen from Phoenix last Friday. Larry was interested in fishing aboard a Curlew since he's on the verge of ordering one. I was recovering from a bad cold, and it was a cold day, but we went out anyway. We found some fish, but overall the fish were off the flats, because the sun had not begun to warm the flats on the heels of our last cold front. Larry is a FFF Master Certified Casting Instructor, and the high point of my day was watching him cast. But even a great cast could not make up for the poor conditions.
    That day, our regular guests and good friends, Joe and Debby MacKay arrived from Austin and fished Saturday, Sunday and Monday. They are good fly fishers and they caught...no fish. They found fish, but could not see them. It was cloudy and windy. They paid their dues, and such commitment always pays off, but not always when we want it to.
    My old friend from childhood -- Roger Nolen -- stayed with us this past week, while making purchases for his lodge operation in Mazatlan, Mexico. He caught trout under the lights every night, but the bay fishing was off. We tried to go out a week ago, and a cold front blew through six hours before it was supposed to, and we didn't even start the motor Today was the first day that I was free and the conditions were marginally favorable, so we went out in fog at 7:00, and covered quite a bit of water down south. We got some shots at reds along a shoreline, but another cold front started pushing through by 10:00, and we were in by 11:00.
    If you're planning a trip, consider mid-March and later. We have warmer weather sooner than that, but the reds do not start podding up on shrimp until mid- to late-March. Once that happens, the birds will be over the fish; so we don't need full sunshine, nor calm conditions to locte them. But until then, the three factors of sunlight, southeast winds, and low tides have to prevail for most sight casting fly fishers to have much success.

1/26/05 We've been busy off the water for the last couple of weeks, so there isn't much to report. I guided a couple of days two weekends ago, then had to cancel four trips in a row during a period of strong south -- and then north -- winds. Between beginning a new semester, getting our gear in shape, and fulfilling some speaking engagements, we've had little time to wet a line.

But today we decided to go after big trout. It was a perfect day for it, and we were pretty sure we could find them southeast of the mouth of the Arroyo, and then again back to the north up by Mansfield. We had our dogs with us, and it was toasty 80 degrees as we headed down the Arroyo. But not every perfect day ends up a fish catching day. As we planed onto the flats, there was a "thump" and our prop promptly fell off as the shear pin broke. The water was too deep and murky to recover the prop, so we sat there feeling pretty helpless -- that is, until we got in touch with our neighbor "St." Rex, who came after us with his boat.

So we didn't catch any big trout today. I thought it would be good for you to know that we don't always "wup up." Of course, I like to share the good news as much as anyone, but reporting an occasional botched trip has a way of making the glowing reports sound a little more believeable, doesn't it?

We're off the San Antonio on Friday to speak at the Boat Show, and to help Tim and Leslie Clancey sell their great boats. We hope to see you there! And then we'll be back to post an updated report next week.

12/31/04 On December 16, I posted what I thought would be my final fishing report for 2004, and then headed with Kathy for the Northeast, there to spend Christmas with our kids. Returning near midnight on 12/27, I immediately packed the Curlew and headed for the Bay. I know it sounds crazy, but it was the 13th and final full moon sleepover that I'd promised to do for 2004. I was lucky, because the temperature was in the upper 50s as I planed down the Arroyo at 1:00 a.m. Except for the dew, which drenched my sleeping bag by daybreak, it was pleasant night. I awoke to warmer temperatures and a light rain, and this stunning sunrise.

Jim Posgate had asked me if I could take him and his son Keith out on Wednesday, and I thought that the answer was surely "No" after two days of travel, and a night on the bay. But it was such a beautiful day that I called Jim from the boat and suggested that we go out around 9:00. He readily agreed, so I took off for home, and ate a quick breakfast with Kathy before heading out again with Jim and Keith.

As you know, we had snow last week, and very cold temperatures; so I was concerned that the cold water would kill a lot of big trout. There was a considerable number of dead trout on the bay, but nothing to compare with the huge fish kills in the early and mid 1980s.

We headed south and east toward a place where the reds and trout often congregate during warming trends through the winter. I would have gone there anyway, but our buddy Henry Bone from Austin -- who had stayed at the Lodge while we were away -- had found a motherload of reds in the area the day before. So I was confident that we'd find them again.

Sure enough, we had great sight casting for a couple of hours until the clouds shrouded the sun. Keith and Jim both had several encounters with cruising and tailing reds that were easily visible in the crystal clear water. They were tough to catch, however. A combination of cool water and a cloudless night during the full moon made the fish a bit finicky and sluggish. After that, it was tough finding a sight casting venue, but we gave it our best.

I guided again yesterday -- taking out Michael Kisusky and his wife Kathy and son Tony from Houston. We headed back to the same area, but the wind and the clouds made it impossible to sight cast the same area. So we headed back west, and were relieved when the wind began to die off. Indeed, as the surface became glassy, the reds begain tailing in every direction. Since the bottom was too soft for wading, I poled the Kisuskys for the next couple of hours. Kathy and Tony were br

Kingfisher Inn's Lower Laguna Madre Fly Fishing Report