Launched at 11:30 and headed over to the east side of John's Island. Passed a lone dolphin herding up mullet in the shallow water on the north side of the island. A pelican following him around playing the opportunist. Dead low when I got there. Nothing happening. Fiddled around there for a little bit. Ate a can of Vienna Sausages and had a Coke, then decided to head on over to the mouth of John's Creek. Bald eagle on a post on the east side of the mouth of the creek watching me pole past. Stopped inside the mouth of the creek where the channel cuts through. Left my little short piece of rope that I use for tying off to my pushpole in the car, so just ran the bow of the boat up on the mud bank. Started throwing a DOA CAL jerkbait. Didn't have to wait much longer for the tide to start moving, and when it did I missed a strike on a jig under a Cajun Thunder. Started just poling along, casting as I went. Missed a strike on the jerkbait. Missed another on the jig. Missed another on the jerkbait.
"You're not very good at this, are you?"
"I don't see you exactly tearin' 'em up."
"There's a rope up in the marsh grass."
"I can use that. Let's go get it."
"Ask and ye shall retrieve."
"Oh, humor-us."
Worked my way all the way through John's Creek and did nothing else. Thought about heading over to Graves Creek, but decided since John's Creek comes out in East Goose Creek I might as well go up it instead. Loads of mullet around.
When you're e-e-easin' up on a rocky hole in a creek, bein' real quiet and sneaky like... and you THONK your pushpole on a rock. Might as well keep right on poling along to the next hole.
"There's a stingray."
"Hmm, laying flat on the bottom, I bet it would hurt if some knuckle-head came along and accidental drove the pointy end of a 14', 5 1/4 lb. pushpole into your back."
"I imagine that would leave a bruise."
At 4 of the clock I was in a rocky bend in the creek and got a strike on a Bayou Buck spinnerbait.
"Hmmpf, there he is. Must be a red."
"Nope, it's a trout. A nice trout. Get the net."
And that's one in the box.
Two hours later I was on my way out of the creek and stopped to throw the spinnerbait to a grassy point that has some rocks out in front of it.
"Hmm, felt a bump. Something was after it. Throw in there again."
"There he is."
So all afternoon got me my bailer back, a short piece of rope, one red and one trout.
