It was Friday morning in late January a few days before the full moon. The tides were super low all week, and today, the tide was coming in slowly all day. A front passed two days earlier, and the temperatures were mild. The north winds had backed down to less than five miles per hour and were forecast to go south easterly during the afternoon. The major feeding period was forecast to be from eight am to ten-thirty am. The minor feeding period was supposed to occur from three pm to four pm. We swung wide to avoid a group of duck hunters on a low tide exposed sand bar and power poled down in the mouth of a drain about five-hundred yards away.
It was one of those overcast days that is so still that you can not differentiate between the horizon and the water. As we slipped over the side of the boat, the cool water reminded us that winter was not over. The water temps were on the rise after the front but still a little chilly. Armed with Down South plastics, we began casting and walking toward bait flipping in deeper water. In the first fifteen minutes, we knew we had stepped into the middle of a feeding frenzy. That is how long it took us to string ten nice, keeper speckled trout. Several times we were doubled up, which would be the norm for this morning. Birds began working to the right of us, and to the left the trout were coming out of the water chasing small shrimp. This was a scenario that was more likely seen in the early fall and not late January. Since we had caught our limit of specks, we decided to go looking for some redfish. When we left this spot, our total count for about two hours was sixty-four trout. Needless to say, we left them biting as we began our search for some bronze backs.
We made several more stops wading the mud and shell looking for redfish. In the picture above my nephew stuck a nice twenty-five inch trout near the shoreline. After a nice fight, he released the fish to make some future trophies. Every where we stopped, we caught at least one redfish. At one drain, I called the shot as he dropped me off on the opposite side of a deep drain and went back to fish the other side. I chose that side because I thought there might be a redfish at the mouth of a smaller side drain. I worked my way slowly casting to the shell on the banks as I went toward the opening. Once in position on my second cast, a nice slot red exploded on my soft plastic. I hollered “called it” as my drag started to scream. He was determined to get back in the smaller channel as I tightened my drag and horsed him out of the shallow mud and shell.
With no more takers in this small area, we loaded up and headed to a larger, deeper drain. As we slid into the water, my nephew went toward the drop off in deeper water, and I headed toward the shoreline where I saw some bait jumping. As I approached the shore, I saw a familiar sight. The fanning tails of two nice redfish feeding nose down on some shallow oyster shell. I quietly worked my way toward the the dinner table with the dinner guests never suspecting a thing. My first cast was beyond the feeding fish as I brought the soft plastic swimming by the main platter. The next cast was closer and caught their attention as I danced the dessert in front of their noses. Without hesitation, my lure was devoured by another slot red as he made a beeline for deeper water. Determined not to go on my stringer, he put on a powerful display. By the time I had put him on my stringer, another red was slowly meandering my way from the opposite direction. I stood perfectly still as he cruised right in front of me. He passed by unaware of my presence as I flipped my redfish candy in his path. Before it hit the bottom, he had engulfed the treat and was not happy when the treat tugged back. After a short drag stripping and thrashing in the shallow water, he slowly gave up and succumbed to my stringer with his buddy.
As the day drew near to a close, we stopped at an unknown spot which we had not fished before. It was a drain with a long, shallow point which had a lot of mud and shell. I waded toward one side of the point thinking it would drop off, but it never did. I continued to find shell and mud as I kept pushing my way back toward the back of a cove. The wind had started to blow out of the east and was right in my face. The clouds had pushed off to the south, and bait fish were jumping all around me. The tick of my lure over the top of the shell was met with a hard thump as another nice slot red began to take line off my reel. As I eased the fish up beside me, I realized I had left my stringer in the boat. Luckily he was given a reprieve as he glided back to his familiar surroundings. The sun was beginning to set as I stuck two more smaller rat reds and sent them on their way. While wading back to the boat and continuing to cast, another slot red doubled my rod. I just kept walking back as I fought the fish and swung him into the boat. The beauty of God’s glory was on full display as his fading light show displayed some amazing colors.
I am always amazed at the sunsets God puts on display and how no two are alike.
“From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same the Lord’s name is to be praised.”
The bounties that he provides are always welcomed within legal limits and were very tasty.
I hope you get to make a winter wade as this can be one of the best times of year to slide into the water and quietly stalk a personal best fish. God bless you and thanks for reading my blog.
Tim Lumpkin
Blog: Legacy-outdoors.net
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