T'was the day before Christmas Eve when the skies cleared
over the bayous and the fish called. "Scud, stop the bah
humbug act and go fishing." I called Rich Waldner and he
said he was at a dead spot in his rebuilding, had the new
boat ordered and he needed a break from the "too close"
living with his family while the rebuilding goes on. I
loaded up the boat and drove over and we went to visit
the fish. I got a room from Brian Carter for the night
and slept the short night guilty about the shopping I had
not started yet for my bride. (See Capt. Yates previous
article,
Katrina Did Not Kill All the Fish).
Rich and I joined up for coffee and started out after the
ice was scraped from the boat. The main roadblock has
moved south past where we wanted to fish but we still
had to pass a control point at the FEMA/National Guard
base at the high school in what is left of Port Sulfur,
LA. There is actually nothing left of the original town
but the FEMA trailers are starting to pop up for folks
to use while rebuilding. Rich has one behind his house
now but the electricity was not "on" yet. He expected
that to happen any day. In fact, Rich is about a month
from being back in his place and having a boat. He can
buy the trailer from FEMA to put up fishermen too. There
are still few places to stay over there. Brian's trailer
was given to a lady who needed out of a hotel room the
day I left.
We hit the water with the temp about thirty-five and the
wind from the NE at twenty, but it was absolutely clear
as a bell. It was about nine AM. Of course, nothing goes
exactly as planned and I had taken my winter coat off to
hook up the boat and left it on the stoop at the trailer.
My summer wind jacket and three light layers had to protect
me. That mistake kept the boat speed down a bit on the eight
mile run out to the gulf edge of the flats where we would hunt
for the bull reds on this day.
We pushed along a short canal about half way out to see
if any of the fish were "inside" only to waste about
thirty minutes and about half freeze me standing in the
wind with no action. The water was extremely low and the
tide was going out already so more of the flats were out
of the water than in, no doubt freezing the exposed oysters
making them very tasty. Had we not taken a break in the
running my hands might not come off the wheel. The gloves
and earmuffs were in the jacket pocket.
Once on the "outside" and at the real starting point, we
were just about at a perfect sun angle if we could find a
canal with a flat along the edge to push along. Rich started
at a perfect place with the sun behind and both the 20 mph
wind and a strong current to push against. He likes some
of that pressure off the front end so he can stop the boat
easily when fish are sighted but this combination made him
take off his jacket quickly from overheating. I was still
mighty cold until the first fish was sighted ten minutes
into the poling. It was a black drum on the flats' edge.
My technique for them is to put it in front of the nose and
then let it drop straight to the bottom. Then I just move
the crab fly in two-inch strips. This guy nosed over and
sucked up the fly. A short fight later and we were admiring
a 15 pound black drum, not pretty like a red, but a nice fish
to start with. It was a short fight as the water was 43 degrees
at this time of the day making the fish sluggish. Revival was
quick and I think he was just getting warmed up when Rich
released him. Rich tied off the boat to come down and help
and still lost about twenty yards getting the momentum going
again in the conditions. The tide flow was getting stronger
with two hours before it was to turn.
Up popped a couple of big reds (12-14 pound) and I got
them both with short fights too. I landed them myself
to let Rich keep the boat from losing ground. I was
finally getting warmed up some. Rich would not get down
from the tower so I had to continue. Next fish was noted
from a big black tail sticking out of the water, three
feet of water at that. It was another black drum but
much larger. I tossed and did my trick and this one
did his and I was off to the races. He was big enough
that a short fight was out of the question. Rich did
stop and tie off to the pole to help so I would not
break my rod trying to land this lug. The fish warmed
up during the fight and put on a run of sorts of about
fifty feet after seeing the boat but came to side in
about seven minutes or so. I was using 20-pound leader
so I could put some pressure on the fish. It was good
he did not run downstream though. This one maxed out
the 30-pound Boga grip scale but by only a little bit
so it was probably in the 32-pound arena.
What Rich made me do after this was keeping on catching
reds, one after another, for an hour. Once a giant
sheepshead showed up but he made me skip it for another
shot a big red, or what looked like one, way up in front
of us. When we got to tossing range it was one big black
drum, almost white in color that looked like a red at first.
The fish was up in 12 inches of water scooping along on
his side eating God knows what on the shelf. It dropped
off the shelf and started working the bottom in the depths
but I could still see the dark shadow in the clear water.
The fly hit the bottom and the fish turned the massive
tail up and ate it at the first strip. This fish was
really sluggish and I was glad he was. It was a real
tugging contest as to who would pull whom to the meeting
of fish and boat. This fish bottomed out the Boga leaving
us only to ponder the real size. A good guess was 40 plus.
I was getting a knot in my rod arm and damn tired of
throwing upwind shots. The smile on my face did not
reflect the pain in the arm. I talked Rich off the
platform. We might have boated twenty fish in that
first ninety minutes. We had not seen any of the big
reds yet but the blacks were sure nice sized.
Rich started where I left off and had a nice red in
the first five minutes and one cast hooked him. I was
sure not as good at handling my own boat as he was and
lost ground just trying to hold the boat for him to
land his own fish. He got another and then missed a
big black drum that had two monster reds right behind it.
The recognition the others were reds was late and the
three fish got spooked before he could get a shot in
front of one of them. I, with mighty effort, got us
up into a little bayou off the canal that held some
nice reds. These fish were in very shallow water and
no matter how close Rich got to them they would not eat,
or run away. They just moved and I fought to get Rich
in position to try them again. When we were both pondering
the change in the fish's attitude we noticed a big porpoise
just outside of us in the deep water. Usually, when these
fish get this way the reason is one of these mean things is
beating up on them. The reds are too big for these bullies
to eat but they bite and bat the reds around for fun. We
have followed the porpoise into ponds to catch fish with
large fresh bites out of their backs. There are almost no
sharks down here so that leaves only one bully in this
schoolyard. One day last year we observed two porpoise
tossing a big redfish up in the air and batting it back
and forth with their noses and tails. The poor red got
about ten feet up at one hit. I don't think he would act
"normal" for some time after all that fun.
Rich caught a couple more and took over for the last
part of the day from the tower. He likes to catch fish
but I think he likes being in charge better. The water
never got to the "rumored" 50 degrees where the fish
start biting. I think we saw 49 as a high late in the
day.
We continued along the canal but the tide changed to help
the pushing even thought the wind stayed on the nose.
Rich might have let me push longer if the tide would
have stayed on the nose. I went back to throwing up
wind and catching fish after fish. The farther we got
from the Gulf, as we pushed straight away from it, the
smaller the fish. The last few were in the eight pound
size and the dark colors and blue tails got much more
pronounced. We ended with a very slow cold ride back
in with the sun setting just as we hit the ramp. We
think we had over thirty reds and five blacks from 11:00
to 3:30. We forgot to eat or drink all day.
It would have been a hard day for a fisherman who could
not take the wind in the face or operate while frozen,
but for us this was very high on the list of best days
in the delta. Most boat handlers could not have polled
the whole day into that wind and current either. From
the other direction, with the winter sun so low, the fish
would not have been visible. Rich made this day possible.
We fished a second day but the clouds rolled in and out
limiting our ability to see the fish. I got half dozen
nice reds, a black drum and even a sheepshead though.
The wind was down and I had the damned jacket so if
we could have seen them it would have been a warm
easy casting day with many fish. It was still a great day.
If you get a chance to fish the flats south of New Orleans,
anytime, it can be wonderful. Winter is the hardest time
of the year to get the "correct" weather conditions but
it is worth the late decision and long drive/flight at
the last minute to get in on the big fish on the cold
flats. Brian Carter has a boat and some openings in
January while Rich is waiting for his boat. Brian had
anglers boat several fish in the high thirty-pound range
this last week. With a southeast wind more of the big
fish places are available.
Call Brian at 504-329-5198. ~ Capt Scud Yates, scudyates@cox.net December 2005
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