So 4:20 Friday afternoon finds me cruisin' to the coast. Bachman-Turner Overdrive on the radio, I'm playin' along to "Takin' Care of Business" on the car horn. Went around to the mouth of Walker Creek and proceeded to drift across southish to northish, and pole back and drift across, and pole back and drift across... The same place where the wife and I had the run-in with the shark last Tuesday. It was slo-o-ow for trout. Anchored periodically just to slow my drift, which was significantly faster than I like. Lots of scattered floating grass. Lots of Spanish mackerel and ladyfish working the area. The ladyfish were overly cooperative, as ladyfish tend to be. The Spanish wanted nothing I was throwing. Targeting trout and reds I took Lucky 13 and SheDog size topwaters, and an assortment of Gulp! shrimp. Should have been Gulp? shrimp for this trip. Even the ladyfish preferred a faster, noisier topwater. After 7 the wind started to noticeably slack off. At 8 I finally caught a 24" trout on a chrome SheDog. And got this one in the boat, sans bull shark. Kept at it, and at sunset I started noticing explosive strikes along the shoreline to the north of me and the point to the right. Slipped up behind the point and started getting short strike after short strike on the Lucky 13.
(Hate that they stopped making the Lucky 13 out of wood, but if they were going to go to plastic they could have at least put a rattle chamber in it.)
By now the sun has set, but it's not dark yet. A strike behind me next to the spartina grass had me throw that way. Missed the fish but got a glimpse of what appeared to be what I would call a gator trout for me (over 30"). Probably a red, I didn't see the length of the fish. Didn't see much more than a flash, really, and the width across the belly. Things slowed down right there as it got darker. More strikes further down the shoreline. It's 9 now and dark. Dark enough the stars are out and I can't see my lure. Going on sound. Eased on down the shoreline being real quiet-like. Pitched out the SheDog... bloosh, bloosh, bloosh, bloosh... pause... bloosh, bloosh, Bloosh <"thatwasnotmylure"> bloosh... pauseBLOOSH.
"Man, if that's a trout... it's a great biggun'."
"Of course you'll have to let it go. You already have that piddly little 24 incher in the cooler."
"Yeah, but not before I dig out the cell and get a picture."
Break out the landing net. Scoop the fish out of the water.
"Aww, Man. A 25" red."
"How disappointing."
"Yep, guess we'll have to keep it."
"Keep at it, or go?"
"Go I guess. We've got our one over-slot trout and our one red, it's dark, the mosquitoes are certainly glad we are here and I'm hungry."
Poling back around Live Oak Island there was a thunder-boomer offshore. Too far away to hear, but the light show was fantastic. Better than any fireworks show man ever did.
Get back to my Dad's place, get loaded up, tied down and in the car ready to go.
Hold on. This trip ain't over.
Cruisin' up the highway I see a 'coon on the side of the road.
Cruisin' on I get to the half-way point at the Lighthouse Ministry.
"Where's my GPS?" Pull off the road at the Spring Creek/Shell Point intersection and proceed to tear my gear apart. Not there.
Look all through the canoe. Not there.
Look all over the trailer. Not there.
Look all through the car. Not there.
"Damn... damn-damn, damn-damn, damn."
"Eloquently stated. Go back and look for it."
Back in the car, turn around and head back down.
"Brand damn new GPS. By far the most expensive single item I have with me besides the boat. First trip with it and I lost it."
"With the traffic on this road tonight, if I left it on the trailer and it fell off it's been run over or picked up."
"Well, think. What did you do with it when you took it out of the boat."
"Well I, well I, well I. Took it out of the boat..."
"Yes? Then what?"
"I... laid it on the old blue boat in the yard."
"And what have I said about not laying stuff down while loading?"
In unison:
"Everything picked up, goes straight from the boat, and into the car."
Passed the same 'coon on the way back down. Or it was another 'coon in the same place.
Found the GPS. Right where I laid it down. Picked it up and threw it in the front passenger seat. Pushed some buttons fiddling with it as I was driving. Then laid it up on the dash.
Passed the same 'coon on the way home.
Got home, unloaded my gear. The wife and kids have already gone to bed. Got my gear put away and stripped down to go take a shower.
"Where's my GPS?" Saturday
Got an earlier start and went around to the same place with some small spoons expecting to get into the macks. Nothing. There were a few around, but not like yesterday. Windier too, and a lot more floating grass. Some of it matted up in front of Live Oak Island. Got behind the island to knock some of the wind off and because there was a lot less grass and proceeded to drift across to the ENE. Drifting from the west point of the island back to the first bars I got a good strike or lost a fish every drift, not counting the ladyfish. After a couple hours of doing this the wind started to lay down enough and the grass cleared enough I moved to the mouth of the creek and started drifting through where I was yesterday. Nothing. Not even ladyfish now. A little before sunset I lost a trout on the SheDog. The following cast produced a short strike.
<"What's this boat doing?"
> Woman onboard: "Do you mind if we take your picture?"
<"???">
"Sure, go ahead."
So one thing lead to another and we started chit-chatting, and that's how I met Sue and David from Shell Point. Hi, Sue. Hi, David.
The bite along the shoreline started while we were talking. Not as intense as yesterday.
Left a little after 9 with an empty cooler. Poling back around in front of the island there was lots of bioluminescence in the water. You could see the trail of the pole, and the fish as they darted away, spooked by the boat. Two thunder-boomers offshore tonight. Started to leave. As I got back around in front of the island I decided to try a few casts on the rock pile. Lost one fish. Lost my SheDog on the second. Cut me off on a rock.
Saw three 'coons on the side of the road on the way home. And didn't lose my GPS.
