When It All Comes Together

 
This past week has been a marathon to say the least. In the last 8 days I was able to get on the water 7 times in preparation for this past weekends IFA Kayak Tour in Lafitte, La.  Now, I get teased a lot about never working, or spending too much time on the water, but what most people don't realize is that no matter what, family and work always come ahead of fishing.  Just because I got on the water 7 times doesn't mean, I spent 7 days on the water.  In this particular instance, there were days that I fished off the road, days where I left my house at one in the morning to hit the water for an hour or two, but by 8 a.m. was headed to work in a suite and tie.  Other times I was working topwater or jigging waters after the house had settled and the kids were in bed.  I am fortunate to have a job with vacation days and a family that supports my habits and my passion, and I give a special thanks to my wife for standing with me every step of the way no matter what journey or path I choose to take.   
No matter what you do in life, you are competing, whether its sales, digging a ditch, shooting a bow, or fishing.  You may not always be competing against someone else, but you are competing, against the flight of the arrow, against the mud in the shovel, against the client you are trying to sell, against an individual, against the elements, against yourself, and in this case, against the fish.  And no matter who or what you are competing against, the sooner you realize it, and the sooner you prepare for it, the sooner you will see success.  Everything I do in life, I prepare, and I do my best to prepare more than whatever it is I am competing against.  You wanna compete and be in the upper echelon, you have to put your time in and you have prepare.  It's not always about being in the right spot at the right time, it's more about preparing for situations and knowing your response and actions before the situation ever presents itself. 
So the next time, you choose to approach someone with a sarcastic comment about how "it's not fair", or "you fish too much", or "your in the click", maybe your should step back and re-evaluate the preparation time you put in to something, verse those you are competing against.
Now that I am done ranting on preparation, lets get to the week.  I fished the waters or Venice, Buras, Delacroix, Basons, Golden Meadow, Fourcheon, Grand Isle, and I even spent some time in Hopedale.  I wanted to cover as much ground in as little time as I could for this event.  I had trips that resulted in nothing and I had trips that resulted in more numbers than I care to count.
As the week moved forward, I felt I was getting a good handle on what was going on and where the fish were.  I had fished from land, from kayak and from boat and I was finding fish in lots of directions. 
When Friday rolled around, I took a vacation day and met up with some buddies of mine to take their kids out on the boat and get on some trout and reds.  After they agreed to let me run the trolling motor and pick the spots for the first hour of the morning, we were off.  We made one stop near a shallow ledge and were able to land a couple of trout with one pig lost at the boat when we couldn't get the net out in time.  From there we made a quick 5 minute run over to a deep canal that has held trout in the past.  We threw topwater with good success and landing most of the bigger trout, while the kids were pulling in trout and small reds on Matrix Shad and Gulp under a cork.  This one canal is around 3 feet deep with an 8 foot hole at the end of it, before we left, I am confident we pulled over 100 trout out of 150 yard section of the canal, with only 30-40 of them being keepers, and of those, only 2 of them that would have sufficed for the tournament.
From there we made a 15 minute run to an open water reef where I was expecting to get into some Bull Reds, and as usual, topwater did the trick, we were able to land two good reds that were pushing the 40" mark, which is exactly what I was looking for. 
From there we cranked the motor to head north when we came across a school of jacks, and after one cast with a mirrordyne and a 53 minute battle, we ended the day with a giant jack, a box full of trout and a slot red or two.
Saturday was the day, the day were I put everything together and confirm all that I have learned from this week, to get a good predictor of what my tournament day would end up looking like. 
But in true fashion, the fish didn't cooperate.  I actually launched in the same spot 4 times on Saturday, because I knew the fish would eventually show up, but they never did.  This was a spot that I learned earlier in the week from a local, and both times I fished it, I quickly pulled out solid trout, and then quickly loaded up and left. 
I think I pedaled over 20 miles and launched 7 times on Saturday.  Nothing I did was working.  I even made phone calls to people I never call trying to figure out what has changed overnight.  The wind was still the same, the tide was still minimal, the water was still clear, but the fish were either lip locked, or they weren't there.  I ended Saturday with only 24''s total, a 15" red and a 9" trout.  Now I worked harder this day than any day combined, my confidence was still there, but my results weren't.
As Sunday morning rolled around, I had so many options running through my head it was driving me insane.  I kept telling myself stick with the plan, stick with the plan, but remember, the day before, the plan didn't work, at all.  As I cranked my truck and pulled out to the highway, I began to turn left when something made me turn right.  I was sticking to the plan and I was doing it with confidence.
As I arrived at launch number one, I was excited to see minimal people there, which later changed to some company, but it was still good.  All I needed was 15 minutes in this location, and I would know if the fish were there or not.  When 6 a.m. rolled around, I took my start picture and was in the water.  Within 10 minutes I landed a 15" trout and I knew the fish were there, but 50 cast later, not another bump, so I quickly loaded up and headed to spot two.
When I reached spot two I could see others off in the distance working the flats, and rather than head their direction, I went the other way and within 3 cast, I landed a trout that I never expected to be there.  It was actually one of those cast that you just chunk out there to get any loops or knots out of your line, but fortunately the lure landed on its mark.  I walked the Skitterwalk back to me and halfway there a giant explosion went off and my lure was gone, the fish wasn't fighting like normal, but kind of anchored down with a head shake here and there.  As the trout approached the kayak, I dipped the net and in he went, I was breathless when I looked in the net to see a 22.5" trout with my lure embedded in the lower lip.  I was so nervous, I paddled to the nearest piece of land as fast as I could so I wouldn't have any chance of him flopping into the water and escaping.  After a dozen pictures on the board, I then headed to launch 3.
As I reached launch three, there were a couple people in the area that were coming in, when I saw smiling faces and high fives coming from a couple of the anglers, I knew that what I was looking for was close by.  And after nearly an hour of searching, working flats, and ledges with jigs and Gulp I finally came across some redfish.  And they were big, the first one I landed was likely the largest in weight, but not in length, he had a girth like no bull red I have ever landed.  After that beast, I stayed on them, working an area back and forth for miles and picking up one here and another there.  At one point I fought a bull that I know broke the 50'' mark and he was the perfect fish, long and skinny.  As I wore him out and got him yak side, I put the net around his head and at the same time knocked my lure out of his mouth, I couldn't fit the fish in the net, and as I scrambled to grab the small of his tail while the rest of his body was in the net, he was able to slowly slide out free and swim away.  I was devastated, but I kept fishing to end up landing a bull that went 44.25" long. 
That brought my total inches to 66.75'', a great aggregate in my book for a two fish tournament.
As I rushed back to the truck to make the ride to Lafitte for the weigh in, I couldn't help but think about that one redfish getting away.  The craziness running through my mind was endless, could I win?, could I lose by an inch, will I make the top 5, will all my efforts pay off ?  My mind was racing.

Sometimes in life, you make decisions that don't make sense, sometimes you are just lead in a direction and you choose to follow blindly.  Well the day before the event, I told Brendan B a story about numbers.  All week, everywhere I turned I saw the number 66, at the gas pumps, on signs, on my odometer,  I even had a dream about the number. But as I was trying to embrace the number in my head and relate it to inches in the upcoming tournament, Brendan laughed at me and said, "Yeah right, 66''s, if you get that you will win, but I wouldn't count on it." We both sort of laughed it off, but it was in my mind no matter what.  I later came across the number 666, and thought UH OH, that's not what I want, but believe it or not, when I weighed in, I had a 1/8th inch deduction on my trout for an open mouth, and my final aggregate came to 66.63''s.  It's a weird story and possibly just a coincidence, but for me, it was spiritual guidance, and rest assured, the next time I get that feeling to turn right, when I want to go left, you can bet your butt, I will be following the feeling.

Congrats to all the winners, to all that participated, and to all in the youth division that showed up to display their talents, it was a great event and I look forward to seeing everyone at the championship.

Until Next Time,
Stay Safe & Catch 1

Mississippi Bass'n

 Last week I got a call from a Russ P. asking if I wanted to go to bass fishing in Mississippi and take pictures for an article coming out in Bass Times/Bassmaster Magazine.  Well, being Bill Dance in my own mind, I jumped at the opportunity to make the trip.  Joined with us were Chris F., Nathan B., and Kent, all fairly new to the world of kayaking, but well versed in the world of largemouth bass. 
I left my house around 2 a.m. and met up with Russ at 2:30 and were on our way.  Now remember, our last excursion together, the everglades fiasco, ended in getting lost... and believe it or not, this one started out that way.  After 3 dead end roads, and I think 5 U-turns, we finally made it to the rendezvous point, where we could follow Chris to the launch site.
As we unloaded the yaks in darkness, you could hear fish slapping the water in the distance.  I felt like a kid in Candy Land, and all I wanted to do was get in my Outback and start pedaling.  As the sun began to rise, the lake we were fishing began to take shape, at least the part I could see.  We were surrounded by 128 acres of pure awesomeness.  I listened to stories about not one, but two 14 lbs bass that had been taken from this lake. Being I have only caught one bass that crept into the double digit range, you can't even imagine the things that were running through my mind while listening to these stories.
Then it happend, I heard Kent yelling, I got one, and then Russ, I got one, and then Chris, I just missed one, and finally Nathan, I got one too.  But, what I didn't hear was my own voice, I hadn't caught squat.  I know we were only on the water for 10 minutes so far, but geez, have I lost my touch?  I looked at Russ and grumbled that they must know something that I don't know, Russ only chuckled and agreed.  As if Russ isn't already a 7 foot man of giant proportions, now he is chuckling like the dang Jolly Green Giant, and NO, that didn't help my confidence at all.
Well as the next thirty minutes rolled around, the quad moved toward an island off of a point, while I tucked back into a small flat with some bream beds on it.  I sat there for about 5 minutes looking at all of my rods, while watching bass fly out from a ledge destroying bait hovering over the flats and beds.  I didn't have one lure tied on that I felt confident in.  With that in mind, I tied on my all time favorite, a Fluke.  First cast, fish on, second cast, fish on and with the next 10-15 cast I put 5 bass in the kayak and then released them. 
As I was bringing in the 5th one, I heard Chris yell that it was now time to move in to the larger part of the lake.  I was like, really...now...I get on fish and now I have to go.  But it was all good, they knew this lake better than me, and technically, I was only there to take pictures, yeah right.. that's why I had 5 rods in my blackpack and the camera strapped on the back of Russ' Pro Angler.
As the morning moved on, I went on my own way and the group was supposed to let me know when they got on to fish or landed a good one so I could come get some photos and action shots.  But it seemed that the direction I went was the right one, kind of.  I got on fish at almost every point and stump I came across, the only problem was that they were 8 inches to 2 lbs fish and not the 8-12 lbs I was looking for.
I was able to land a 4 lbs bass and at that point was the largest for the day, and Russ was nice enough to take a few pics for me.  Then Russ landed one in the 4 lbs range, but because he's such a big guy, the minute he thumbed the fish in the water it magically turned from a great largemouth to a tiny bream.  I think a 14 lbs bass in Russ' hands would likely look like a 4 lbs bass in my hands.  The pictures don't lie, and neither does the scale, had I not witnessed the scale, I would have chuckled his chuckle at the said weight of the green pig.
We then moved to another section of the lake to take part in Nathan landing a long and lean 6 lbs largemouth, the fish jumped and splashed like it had a hook in its mouth. Guess that's cause it had a hook in its mouth. It was a beautiful fish to say the least, and was even more awesome to watch her swim away.

 

 After that show of acrobatics, I was now ready to hunker down and chase down a beast of my own.  The sun was up and the shad were beginning to make their way to the surface in the middle of the lake.  This is a site I know all too well from growing up on the Tchefuncte.  I immediately dug in my box and grabbed an old school favorite, the Little George.  I tied it on, pedaled as fast as I could to 15 feet of water and made a cast that seemed to have traveled 200 yards.  I let the lure reach the bottom, stood up, reeled up on the lure until my rod tip touched the water, and with the largest swoop I could, I raised the rod tip, straight armed, as high above my head as possible getting on my toes at times, and then let the lure fall, and then BAM, fish on. It was a solid 3 lbs bass, and it didn't stop there.  I landed somewhere between 10-15 bass within the next 30 minutes doing this technique.  I know the others were looking back at me doing this insane looking jig & jive move, but as it has in times past, it was working, I can only imagine what I looked like out there.  Growing up on the river and knowing the ledges and holes, this technique always yielded me big bass and I can recall the day my dad taught me this move.  I can hear me saying it today, "what the heck are you doing? Are you trying to scare everything in a 2 mile radius?'' But that day was a lesson in humility, he schooled me like a 3rd grader going into a college organic chemistry class.  After that day, I rarely questioned my dads fishing knowledge or abilities, I just learned to watch and listen.  About three weeks after perfecting the move,  I remember fishing a tournament and in less than thirty
minutes, landed a 5 fish stringer that went over 20 lbs to win the event, but on this lake, the big girls weren't falling for it.  The only conclusion I could figure out was that the water hadn't warmed up enough, the sun wasn't high enough, and the shad weren't as active as they would have been later in the evening.  Unfortunately I had to be in the truck by noon, so today I wasn't going to find out if my theory was correct or not.
Before leaving I eased on over to another point covered in lilies and dropped a Texas rigged worm right in the mouth of another 4 lbs largemouth.
Although I didn't land the fish of a lifetime, I had a blast, and I was able to accomplish the goal of what we came for, getting pictures.  I just wish I would have had the camera close as Russ was struggling to get what would have likely been an 8 lbs plus bass untangled from the matts of lilies that he was working his frog across.  The look of disappointment and the sound of frustration was a devastating, I know Russ has landed some big fish in his day, but you could tell, he really wanted this one.
Overall, it was  great day, the sun shined at times, but was overcast most of the time, the rain didn't hit until I was loaded and a mile down the road, the air temps stayed in the upper 80s to low 90s with the water temps staying around 86 degrees.  I landed fish on crank baits and worms, but the real producers of the day were a Zoom Fluke in silver and grey and a 1/2 ounce Little George in white and gray.  Special thanks to Russ for the phone call, and I huge thank you to Chris F for putting this all together and making it happen.  I look forward to my phone ringing again in the near future (hint/hint), hopefully on a day that I don't have to rush home, and a day were the shad are schooled up in the deep.

Until next time,
 Stay Safe & Catch1

 

Clean Water = Sore Muscles

 

 With all of the reports surrounding SE Louisiana of fresh and dirty water everywhere, as a result of the continued West winds and rain filled days, I decided it was time to get out and explore some new grounds with hopes of finding clear and salty water.  That being said, I rarely explore new grounds alone, so I reached out to Ty Hibbs to see if he was interested in making a long trek in new waters, I could hear his excitement on the phone.
With Ty in agreement on the plan of a 20 plus mile day, I had to leave my house around 1:30 a.m. so we could arrive and paddle through the darkness to what I had hoped would be a day of new beginnings.
Apparently though, Ty's alarm clock didn't get the memo, so after umpteen text and several phone calls, Mr. Ty "sleepy Head" Hibbs showed up at our meeting point, about an hour late might I add.  With us loaded up, we headed south to Grand Isle. 
As we arrived it was still dark, and we had to hurry if we were going to make the run in time to get to our destination for an early morning topwater bite.  With the incoming tide and the north winds, peddling the two Outback's weren't as fast as what I was hoping, and before we had made it a quarter of the way, the sun was breaking above the horizon.
As we altered our plans due to the sun starting to come up, we quickly turned course to hit an old hot spot, but unfortunately there was a 24 foot boat anchored up on top the structure I was hoping we would be able to get started on.  From there we took a mile long run slinging lures in every direction with no luck.  The sun was now up, I continued to run through my topwater arsenal as Mr. Sleepy Head continued his jigging and topwater. And then it happened.  A flock of birds showed up about 400 yards away and Ty turned his bow and headed for them, while I chose to stay closer to moving water.  Within minutes, I had a trout in the yak, it wasn't big, but it was a trout.  Next cast, another, and another and another.
I kept wanting to call Ty and tell him to come back, but my phone wasn't working for some reason, and better than that,, every time I looked, his rod was bent over fighting fish. 
The water was green clear, the water temp was 86 degrees, we were sitting on the near end of a rising tide, the dolphins where everywhere, the birds were everywhere, the wind was out of the north, shrimp were jumping from one side of my yak across the hatch and in the water on the opposite side without ever touching the kayak, and as long as you threw a lure that sunk fast, you caught trout.  Eventually Ty made his way back to me, we continued to fish within two hundred yards of each and sat there anchored in the tide.  By 10 a.m. I had tagged and released more fish than I did in all of 2013.  I tagged 43 trout before I finally ran out of tags, and I had a bag full of  trout on ice.  Most of the tagged and released trout ranged from 8-12.5" and I didn't keep one that was below 13" with the largest easily surpassing the 20" mark.  Before we left the area, we had both landed over and around 100 specs each, it was a day I wish I had my kids or wife with me. 

Used Matrix and Vortex Shad

I was using matrix shad in every color they made, but the Kamikaze seemed to produce more consistently, and I could only catch them on a 3/8 ounce jig head, I tried a quarter ounce time and time again, but apparently they only wanted a fast falling bait.  Mr. Sleepy Head was throwing the same, but at times he was throwing a double rigged, 3/8 and 1/4 ounce headed matrix shad and was bringing in two at a time. 
With comfortable winds, and the tide stopping we decided to move another three miles in an attempt to find some reds and flounder.  At this point, we could have gone home having a perfect day, one rat red, more trout than we could handle, and not a catfish in site.  As we made the run and entered into some skinny waters, Ty yelled, "Watch this," and then he dropped his line off the side of the grass and within a second set the hook.  The next thirty minutes or so became comical.  Ty had just hooked in to a giant Black Drum using his rod lined with 14 lbs monofilament.  I have never seen a "big nasty" with this type of endurance, he pulled Ty what seemed like a half mile, from the tiny canal deep in the marsh to more open water where he could then roam free.  Finally after several failed netting attempts, by yours truly, Ty was able to get the beast yak side and bottom out the Boga grips.
I've been asked several times since this trip, where did you fish, and to give a definitive answer, the best I can say is Grand Isle.  We fished the south side, the north side, in the marsh, in open bays, and beyond.  The one thing that mattered no matter where we stopped or where we launched was clean moving water.  Sometimes we had to paddle a couple miles, sometimes we had to pull over land, or get back deep into the marsh to find it, but when we did, the fishing was hot.  It may sound like a lot, but we only ended up paddling just over 10 miles.  Our original plans would have netted us well over 20 miles, so I guess the alarm clock fail helped us out in the long run.  One thing I do know, is that I got to explore areas of Grand Isle I have never been too, and likely would have overlooked had we been on time.
High tide was around 10 a.m., the winds shifted from north to southwest around 10:30 to 11:30, tidal range was around 1.2 feet, and water clarity was an easy 3-4 feet when we found clean water.  Very few fish caught on topwater, but the ones that were, made the bag.  Nothing caught under a cork, although we didn't try it much, Matrix and Vortex Shad without a doubt owned the day.

Leaving at dark and getting home early is always nice, but arriving home to a rainbow sitting over a true pot of gold, my family, made for a memorable ending.

Until Next Time,
Stay Safe & Catch1