The 10-day weather forecast left lots to the imagination. Depending on the time of day, it gave me visions
of blue bird skies with calm winds, overcast days with flag straightening winds
and a chance of severe fog on Saturday morning.
All of which were experienced in two days. My strong desire to sight fish Louisiana redfish
eventually become more than I could overcome and the plan was made to go
regardless of the weather.
A cool breeze from the east greeted me on Friday morning. It wasn’t the conditions that I was hoping for
but I wasn’t discouraged. The tides were
low and the sun was going to be out.
More importantly, I was really hunting for one large bull red. The kind of fish that would stand out in less
than ideal conditions.
 |
| Foggy start to the morning |
The winds were steady 10-15 mph. It was a real workout to
remain standing and scoping the flats.
In most instances, I would spot a redfish as it made its request for
solitude. The morning had shaped up to
be slightly frustrating. Fortunately, I
was able to sneak up on several slot redfish but the bull red continued to elude me.
 |
The first opportunity presented itself and dismissed itself
at the same juncture. I was pushing
along a west bank when a 35” red moved between me and the grass line but
heading in the opposite direction. I
tried to pivot the kayak and slowly chase it down. But as quickly as it appeared, it was
gone. Almost like it hadn’t been there
at all. Were the wind and clouds taunting me?
Ironically, it was that sighting that kept me hopeful. Indeed, there were some big reds stalking the
area. I paddled across a small bay to a
western bank and immediately noticed something dark patrolling the edge of a
shell lined island. As I closed the
distance, it too vanished in the shadows of a passing cloud. At this point it was nothing more than a silhouette
but it elevated my heartrate.
If it was a bull red, this was the best chance I had at
getting a fly in front of it before it noticed a 12 foot kayak in its halo. Then the silhouette took form as it swam on my
starboard side and 15 feet off my bow.
Unbelievably, it had presented itself in the most ideal setting. The kayak kept pace with the red while I
seated the paddle and brought the fly rod to hand. The fly landed softly. One quick strip and the tan over white streamer
paused right in front of the red. It was
now decision time.
And yet it wasn’t, the red quietly turned and effortlessly sucked
the streamer in. It happened before my
mind processed the action. As nonchalant
as the eat was, the next action was absolute brutality. The water exploded as the redfish erupted in
a rage of madness. The huge gill plates
flared in anger and the headshaking was tremendous. The 8 weight was my conduit and the energy was
pulsing into my hands. Then the redfish buried
its head and displayed an impressive burst of power. The next few moments were a complete scramble
as I tried to recover the line that was peeling off the reel. With the line recovered the red looked ready to give up. That was not the case. Each time I tried to net it, it would dive under or around the net. Three failed attempts to net the fish had my forearms screaming
for someone to relieve the greenhorn behind the reel. Thankfully the fourth attempt was a success because
the hook fell out just as the head went into the net.
I saw three more bull reds over the weekend but never got a
shot at any as the conditions weren’t favorable. The fog and winds were so heavy on Saturday
morning the prime sight fishing hours were restricted to after lunch. However, I was completely satisfied with the weekend
because I had found that one good redfish.
