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A Fool and his DogAfter hitting the back arrow 437 times last night instead of hitting the "Submit Reply" I conceded to writing this report. If you are looking for stellar fishing, incredible photos, offshore oil changes, or just a fight...hit the road...this is just a story about a fool and his dog, with old friends and new mentioned briefly along the way.
On a positive note, numbers wise, many more fish were caught than hours spent chasing them this weekend. This says a lot because I fished three hours Saturday, six hours Saturday night, and another five hours Sunday morning.
Saturday
Around lunchtime, the phone rang...
"Whacha doin?"
"Settin here wondering which pine the winds gonna snap and drop on my shed"
"We got five in the box"
"Where are you?"
"Up your way"
"I’ll be out there in thirty minutes. Leave my fish alone"
I could hear him chuckle as I hung up on him. I felt a devilish smirk through the phone when Otis said "we got five in the box". Perhaps being on the creek despite the wind, or maybe being near one of my holes, but more than likely the tone in his voice(and smirk) was driven by the size of two of his fish, later to be described as "two papers".
Forty some odd minutes later The Goose and I were setting the lines and I saw Otis and partner easing up the creek in my direction. I passed by and sent a few loving hand signals, by this time they had twelve in the box and Otis was in his element. I’d never hear the end of this, nor would I want to truth be told.
The first bite I had came where I would not have expected one and three rods went down. Two in the box and one shook off. Over the next hour and a half I boated ten fish, ironically enough, two were studs. Once the tide stopped ebbing the bite stopped too. Unlike the tide the bite did not turn back on though and another hour and a half was spent without so much as a sniff from a fish. I did manage to catch some leaves, pine needles, and a stick on the beginning of the flood so all was not in vain. The Goose was being a snob though, she would not stop staring at the pairs of geese scattered up and down the creek, even when I threw a fish up on the bow. Heeeonk, heeeeonk, seemed to captivate her more than a thump or two from a fish tail...
I went home, cleaned the fish for my neighbor, and cooked some chicken on the grill. Not one fish had one thing in it’s belly. The Goose was snoring only to wake up when the chicken kabobs came off the grill.
Saturday Night
After catching the fish pretty good on the falling tide, I figured a shot at them in the dark was warranted so I gave Jake a call. He said he would be on the way as soon as his girl fell asleep. Off we went around 10pm. I tried the same tactics in the same spot that produced earlier in the day to no avail. The water temp had dropped 7 degrees so rather than wait for the same tide I headed down the river to go get some bait and try some live bait fishing on the hook. Catching bait was a bit more interesting than usual. Among the finger mullet we caught a Speckled trout(biggest one of the night-14"), a few spot, several shad...and what I thought on first glance was the nemesis of all cast nets. A fish I hate to get in the net worse than crabs or silversides...the dreaded Houndfish. A few choice words, one little shake of the net, and the houndfish dropped right out of the net. That’s a first! Usually I end up with a minute razor tooth splinters from hell and a tear in the net to go with it. This was different, it just fell right out of the net and laid on the deck mixed in with a few mullet and a spot. Before I could stomp the thing into a pancake Jake put the flash light on it and we realized why it was being so cooperative. Instead of the last thing I would ever want to see on my boat it was the first.
A Ballyhoo about seven inches, later to be disguised as a Russian mustache.
The night went on and Jake and I argued about how heavy the Ballyhoo was, how many spots there were on the speck, whose mullet was the biggest, why girls cannot be hot and have a bald spot, among other things. The fishing was slower than slow. I caught one striper(hopefully Jake will post that pic), one spike, one spot(on a jig, hooked in the eye), and a five inch long Catfish. I was a puppydrum short of a Chesapeake Bay Poser Slam.
Sunday Morning
With a livewell full of mullet still and not enough sense to quit I headed back down the creek with The Goose. Five hours fishing and not one bite on the live mullets. I did steadily catch spikes on the grub the whole time. Here are a few pics of the Ballyhoo in daylight, and a couple pics of some spikes.
Hopefully the weather will keep getting better and the fishing pictures and reports will improve as well.
Holwachagot
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Originally Posted by hotrodmarlin
