I'm back...with a story
So I was fortunate enough to get a week out on Bald Head Island, which is on the southern tip of North Carolina?s outer banks. Naturally I took every single piece of fishing equipment that could/would be applicable on the island. Going in, I knew the fishing wouldn?t be great (bad time of year) but I was determined. Last year for vacation I bought an 8wt travel rod to take up to Canada. I got skunked ?big time. All of the lakes we were in held fish, but they were down deep. This year I was determined to catch a ?good fish? on this rod, and hopefully my first in salt water. I was having dreams about speckled trout, seriously.
The trout were in the tidal creeks on the back end of the island and almost all of the good fishing was only accessible by boat. I realized late in the vacation that there was one creek mouth I could access so I woke up early one morning to catch the right tide. I caught the tide right, but not any fish. Another thing that is important to understand, was that I was on this trip with a bunch of friends (none of whom fly fish) so my time on the water was limited. Watching someone fish is apparently not that much fun ? at least not for hours on end, and especially if they are not catching anything. On our last day on the island I was determined to catch one of these trout on a fly rod. I decided that I was going to walk up the beach until I could access one of the creeks from the beach. The walk was about a mile and a half. Now walking a mile on a road or track doesn?t take that long. On the beach however, it seemed like forever. Keep in mind that I had a limited time to get up to where I wanted, fish, and get back. The walk took too long.
Stupid decision of the day ? wearing flip flops. I brought shoes for the sole purpose that I knew that these marshes would be muddy. I had already walked out to one (in the shoes) and knew what I was up against. I still didn?t bring the shoes. It was about 50 yards from the walk-able area to the water ? every inch of that 50 yards was reeds, mud, and fiddler crabs. I decided to leave (I didn?t have a ton of time to fish mind you), but as I was about to start heading back I saw a fish jump. I looked at my feet, I looked at the mud, I looked at the flip flops ? I thought ?How bad could it be?? I decided to stay. It was bad. The first 25 yards were easy ? avoid tromping the reeds, the crabs, walk slowly. Then it got worse. About every four steps I had to stop, remove foot from mud, reach in, remove flip flop, put back on foot, repeat. At this point though I?m feeling pretty hard-core. I mean I?m in the middle of nowhere going after a fish that I?ve never caught, and heck I found the fish in the first place which up until that hour seemed impossible. I finally reach the creek and rig up. I tied a clouser on, put my rod tip down and started to strip some line. I lift the rod up only to look down, see the clouser come out of the water, and see the huge speck that was about to eat said clouser swim away in puff of sediment. DAMN! I was way to excited to be mad though, I felt like a five year old waiting to catch a glimpse of Santa on Christmas eve. I was downright giddy. The excitement, in the end, turned out to be my downfall. Its always really cool to read something and then see it. I mean those specks really do make little wakes like sharks when they are feeding. Its even more exciting to execute a great cast right in front of one, and watch it turn and start to follow your fly. It?s the kind of excitement you need to quell if your going to catch anything ? of course I say this in hindsight. I got a couple of great hits but blew them all by trying to set the hook too soon. I had to leave ? moderately dejected with no fish ? but still satisfied by the adventure and actually seeing the damn things. The stares I got walking down the beach were pretty good too. I mean I was covered from head to toe in mud?on a beach with sand ? it must have been a sight. Next year though, one of those fish will be mine. I know just where I am going, and I will be wearing a pair of shoes
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