Get ready for January and the Minimalist Challenge?????

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have waited way too long for the waters around south Louisiana to reach the 50 degree mark, but it’s finally here.  In the first week of January, over two nights, the water temps dropped from 66 to 51 degrees in some parts.  That drop is what many of us in the kayak community have been waiting for.  Days where you don’t have to leave an hour before the sun, where you can chase trout all day rather than redfish, and where you have to remind yourself to drink enough water, because you’re not sweating like you did on Christmas day. 

If you are chasing trout, now is the time.  The trout transition into our interior marshes started over a month ago, but the congregation of trout has been minimal.  You could go out there and drift flats popping a cork, but the nonstop action has been minimal.  Well, with the water temps now in the normal range for where they should be, there shouldn’t be any problem finding schooled up trout.  Whether you are jigging the draining marsh into Bayou Terre aux Boeufs or finding deep canals down in Leeville, the action should be hot.

The easiest way to fill your bag this month is to find an area where the marsh is draining into a deeper canal; this is an easy location for stacked trout.  Another good saying I heard years ago that has held true when waters reach the low 50s is “when the water gets colder, fish over oysters.” I am not exactly sure where I heard that saying, but it holds true when the water temps drop.

Get ready for low tides, cold weather, and some fun camaraderie.

If you are fishing this month’s Minimalist Challenge down in Leeville, your best bet for pulling off a win is to fill your bag with a limit of reds and then chase your trout second.  If you can find some clean water around Lake Jesse and some redfish on the way, then you are likely going to be in the running for some money.  Lake Jesse has been producing some good numbers of speckled trout lately with jigs and plastics and corky style lures. If you decide to go south for the tournament, don’t be scared of the graveyard area, it’s a deep area with lots of snags, but it holds some beautiful fish this time of year.  From Paddle Palooza to last year’s Minimalist Challenge, there have been a lot of winning fish pulled from the vicinity and if you don’t know where it’s at, just look for the sunken barges and boats off the west side when driving across the Bridge to Fourchon.  There are also some solid areas to fish north of Leeville on the West side that have some deep canals with flats on each side that are covered with oysters.  You will likely find some of the hometown favorites scouring this area on tournament day and pre-fishing.

If you are staying local this month, Hopedale Lagoon is the place for steady trout action, that is if the water continues its colder temperatures.  There are oysters spread out throughout the lagoon and a channel in the middle that you can follow by the crab trap bouyies.  I am a big fan of jigging matrix shad and quarter ounce or 8^th ounce jig heads in the “goon” but trolling works well too.  You can also usually find a solid bag of reds along the eastern shoreline using spinner, spoons, or gulp under a cork.

Shell Beach is also another hot location this time of year for the kayaking community.  As duck season comes to an end there is a lot of marsh areas between the intracoastal and lake Borgne that hold a lot of red fish, but don’t forget to hit the mouths of the canals you use to enter the marsh as they sometimes can hold a pile of speckled trout.

No matter where you go this month make sure to dress heavy, dress dry, and always have a spare set of clothes tucked under the deck in a dry bag. I know it can seem like a hassle, but if you happen to fall in, it will be the best thing you take with you.  Being in 50 degree water with air temps in the 40s is not a recipe for a good time, it’s a recipe for disaster.

Until Next Time,

Stay Safe & Catch1

 

 

 

 

Conquering the Storm or Dancing with the Devil... Paddle Palooza 2015

  With busy schedules and a commitment to focus on freshwater for 2015, there was definitely a hesitation in preparing for Paddle Palooza XI.  Although my wife, Jennifer, and I had made the agreement nearly a year earlier that we were going to fish this event together, the KBS and KBF Opens had been in full swing over the previous weeks leading up to PPXI, and I was just settling down from traveling to and fishing Kentucky, Alabama, Florida, Texas, and Tennessee.  Needless to say my focus was on large mouths and not specs or reds at all.  But with only a week left before PPXI we revisited the idea, followed through with our reservations, paid our entry fees, and began casting sessions on the back deck over a few cold beers and warm glasses of wine.  And while I gave as much direction as I could about casting direction, distance, and presentation, the biggest teacher of them all turned out to be my 6 year old daughter Payton.  As I have to travel a lot for work, on the nights when I was away, Payton made sure to get momma on track.  She explained the process of flipping the bail, holding the line on the end of your finger, and casting both side armed and over hand.  Payton stepped up like a pro and sat Jennifer down like a student on her first day of school.  I couldn't be more proud of both them for being open minded and knowledgeable enough to teach and learn from each other, especially given the 3 decades of separation between them.
Just to put it all into perspective, Jennifer has only ventured into a kayak once or twice since we have owned them, and has never fished or caught a fish out of a kayak. But with the truck loaded, she was ready.  I could feel the nerves building with every mile of road traveled down toward Grand Isle, La.  It was a strong mix of excitement and nervousness, with a major concern of weighing in.  All Jennifer wanted was to be on the board, she just wanted to weigh a fish.  It didn't matter if she had a tiny fish, fell out of the kayak,  or had to use dead or live bait, she just did not want to come home with a skunk on her back.
As we arrived with a couple hours left of daylight, I decided we would avoid the planned fishing location and head to Fourchon for some site seeing in the Mangroves, casting practice in real situations, and educating a little around current lines, moving water, and points.  Little did I know that after two turns down the canal we were going to end up in whirlpools spread all over as the depths dropped and currents fell at a high rate of speed.  I was actually nervous at one point, but in no way was I going to let Jennifer know that this was not normal. While my goal was to ultimately keep her safe, I needed to tread on the side of caution as to not startle her to the dangers around, but she took to the Hobie Outback like a tornado in a trailer park.  She was bobbing and weaving and pedaling through every obstacle in front and around her like she had done it a thousand times. 
After a solid hour of fishing oyster flats and the water continuing to drop, she looked at a small cut with some water flowing out of it and said, " if I was fish, I'd be over there." I told her to go get it, and after about 10 minutes of beating the water with her gulp and cork, it finally happened.  The cork dropped, the line went tight, and she set the hook like she was shark fishing off the beach.  She even set it 2 or three more times while reeling it in just for safe measures.  It was an exciting moment for both of us.  As we took some pictures, shared a cold drink, and celebrated the joy of her first redfish ever, her first fish in a kayak, and her first real kayak fishing experience, we called it a day and headed back to the truck.  I think I sent that pic to more than 50 people within minutes, you would've thought I was celebrating my first born. 
After a few more drinks and the ending of her first captains meeting, we hit the sack.  And with just hours in, the alarm went off and we were rolling to the truck at 3 a.m.  We were tired and excited and ready for action, but the action we got was a just little bit more than what we bargained for.  As we arrived at our first location, it was obvious we weren't going to put in and pedal anywhere.  The lightening was crashing everywhere and the wind was whipping like a long tailed cat surrounded by rocking chairs.  We then moved a little further down the road to attempt to get ready for a little roadside fishing, but as we parked, the truck began to shake and visibility dropped down to Mississippi River clarity after a hurricane.  It was clear that what was going through Jennifer's mind at this point was definitely some thoughts and choice words that wouldn't be politically correct to write in a blog or say in crowd, and with that shared, we decided we had better head to Morans for some hot coffee and breakfast, actually she decided, I just obeyed. 
As the major storm bands passed, we decided we still had time to make it down to our backup roadside spot and try our luck just in time for safe time fishing hours.  Unfortunately after unloading the yaks, nosing it in the water, and an hour of fishing, Jennifer didn't get the first strike.
From there we loaded up with our heads hung low, but still optimistic, and headed to spot number one.  As we pedaled up, we saw a large bull red take off right in front of us, and while I suggested fishing a point, Jennifer chose her own direction and went chasing the big red.  After about twenty minutes and a few spec blow ups on topwater on my lure, Jennifer decided to turn back and hit the point.  As she approached it, I was actually reeling in a spec when I heard her yell, I got one, I got one.  As I turned to look at her, she was reeling just as fast as that red was ripping drag, and her Outback looked like it was about to plain off as she experienced her first Cajun sleigh ride.  The red finally carried her right into the grassy point and then turned, by then she had the cork reeled right up the gunnel and as I approached with my mad netting skills,  I proceeded to miss the red with the net, then I hung the net up on a ram ball and as she reeled the beast in for the third time, I then hung the net up on something else on my yak.  The red has now wrapped her line around my mirage drive, and as I pulled the drive and untangled the net for the third time, she was able to surface the red and we got him in the net.  It was 27 and an 8th inches, and while I explained the slot rule again and watched her hopes sink like a one ounce jig head in Bell Pass, I reassured her that with the water being warm, we could definitely shrink the fish to within the legal slot limit.
After a few pictures and high fives, we then made about 100 yard pedal right into a school of trout and within 15 minutes of landing her red, she now had a spec in the bag.  I couldn't believe how this horrible day of events had turned into a lifetime of memories within hours.
It was still prior to 9 a.m. and we had a lot of time to focus on flounder as this point.  And to be honest, I was done, I was ready to just turn in and hit the bunks and wait on the weigh in as I was confident she had a red that would definitely put her on the board, and if you remember, her goal wasn't to win, it was not to skunk, and that goal was well achieved.  
After about another hour of fishing I kind of hinted to her about my thoughts and she turned toward me with fire in her eyes and said are you crazy, we are not leaving until I catch a flounder.  I wasn't sure if I had created a monster or if the devil had taken over my wife, but what I was sure of was that she no longer had a fear of not catching anything, she wanted to win, and it was obvious.
We spent the next several hours avoiding lightening storms, launching the kayaks in four other locations, fishing from the side the road, fishing off the bridges, fishing between the bridges, venturing into where flounder usually lie, and searching for new flounder water, but with all efforts exhausted and my strength dwindling from loading, unloading, loading, and then unloading again and again, hunger had finally set in enough for Jennifer to say, "lets go eat."  Well after splitting a roast beef poboy at Tydes, and her apparent energy replaced, she looked at the time and said we still had an hour and that she wanted to go back out.  Well who am I to argue with the women that has officially put a stomping on me during tournament hours.  We ventured over to the public Leeville launch and proceeded to fish for another 45 minutes before we had to load up yet again and head to the weigh in.
At the weigh in her spirits were high, we were convinced she might win the ladies division and also place in the largest redfish category.  And while the pounds were unveiled we quickly learned that ounces mattered.  Jennifer ended up finishing 2nd in the ladies division, and 3rd overall largest redfish out of 287 anglers of both men and women.
It was an experience like no other, she experienced highs and lows all day long.  The high of her first tournament, the lows of frightening storms and wind shaking the truck, the high of a giant red, the low of it being to big, the high of speckled trout in the bag, the low of not finding a flounder, the high of thinking she won the ladies division, the low of realizing ounces matter, and then the final high of walking up on stage and accepting her Cabela's gift card and her first plaque ever for third largest redfish in her first tournament.  It was great to see her bounce back constantly throughout the day and watch that competitive spirit overcome everything that was thrown at her, and most of all it was exciting for me that she was able to experience the true raw emotions that take place in competitive fishing events.  It was an experience I know she will never forget and will always appreciate, and I couldn't be more proud of my wife and best friend for opening up a new world that we can both enjoy for years to come.  We will see everyone at Fall N Tide 2015.

Until Next Time,

Stay Safe & Catch1

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