Salt on my Gills again

I finally got salt water on my gills this morning and I feel like a new man.  I met up with my buddy Gifford and we hit the water right before sunrise.  Armed with Mt. Dew, my trusty March Brown fly rod and a fistful of flies we ran up the Wando River in search of tail.  The air was chilly and the wind didn’t help much, (this is June in SC right?), but we weren’t running far.   The sound of the motor running us up the river was music to my ears, the smell of salt water and pluff mud was a joy to my nose, the tiny bit of spray made my skin tingle,  and seeing the sun just peeking itself over the trees and reflecting off the water was a visual joy.  I had been assaulted on all fronts of my senses and I was near over load.  It has been far, far, far too long since I have been able to get out like this.  I miss it dearly. 

As we neared out target creek we slowed and started looking for the tell-tale spots that would hold fish.  Small, shallow grass flats that flood with water and have tiny feeder creeks running in and out of them.  This is where the redfish come on and off the flat and the more access/exit points the better.  Redfish like to have avenues to make a quick exit.  We motored down the creek, Gifford at the helm of his East Cape Fury, expertly navigating the tiny creeks twists and turns.  He powered down and we rolled into a grass edge that slowed us down and it got really quiet.  We just stood there looking at the water, taking it all in, looking for signs of fish.  To me it felt like an hour but it was just a few seconds.  Gifford climbed up on the poling platform and I pulled my fly rod from its tube under the gunnels.  As we poled along we talked about fish and the weather and tried to figure out why the tides have been so wonky and higher than predicted lately.  We scanned the flat back and forth and the first fish showed itself.   A quick flip of the tail and it was gone.   That’s when my hands started shaking and my heart sped up to 100mph.   We worked our way around the back side of the flat and saw a few more.  Then we saw one that was grubbin hard in the back of the flat in a small pocket.  It didn’t look like a giant but it was a tailing redfish and we moved into striking range. 

I pulled fly line off my reel and it coiled at my feet, my eyes never leaving the fish.   I began my false cast and let the line shoot.  It was a little long and too far ahead.  I double hauled the line and dropped it closer and it his path.  The fish kept tailing on the line we hoped and my fly was stuck a little high in the water.  Gifford’s expert advice rang in my ears, although he was whispering, “Strip, strip!.... Small Strip”…  Tunnel vision had set in and everything sounded like I had my head in a tin can, time slowed down and for a moment EVERYTHING was just perfect.   I let the fly settle a little and then the silence was shattered with a huge rush of water and what I can only describe as the sound of a very big toilet being flushed, as the fish made its move.  I froze.  The mantra, “Keep Calm and don’t trout set” was blaring in my head as I tried to figure out if the fish spooked or if he ate my fly.  Just as I heard Gifford say, “He ate it!!!” I felt the fly line slipping through my fingers.  My heart skipped a beat and I grabbed the line, pulled back hard and swept my rod low and to the right.  The fish exploded and started his run.  Line screamed off the deck, through my fingers, the fish came tight on the reel and the drag began its beautiful song.   As the song played and the fish ran for heavier grass we booth started grinning ear to ear.  Somewhere in the distance I heard “Keep ‘em tight” and I realized it was Gifford only 15 feet behind me.  I was in my own world and it was a trip I have not made in a long time. 

I started taking line back and the fish would run again.  Back and forth we played until I thought he was tired enough and ready to have that hook removed so he could swim away.  I reached for the fly line to land him and that’s when he saw the boat.  He did not like the boat.  He did not like the boat in any way and decided the best avenue for escape was directly under it.  As I danced around the bow trying to get my rod under the boat and keep pressure on the fish Gifford hopped back onto the platform and turned the boat around.  After a few more runs to the deep grass I finally got hold of the line and pulled him in.  As I hoisted him out of the water he began to drum.  Then it hit both of us that this fish was much bigger than we thought he was.  As I looked at the fish, and waited for my tunnel vision to dissipate, Gifford got out his camera and I realized, not only had I landed my first Redfish on the fly of 2012, this was the biggest Redfish I have ever landed on the fly.  We took pictures of the fish from a few angles.   I laid down on the boat to release him.  I put him in the water with a hand on his tail and under his belly, and he just laid there.   Tickled him a little and he twitched a little bit.  It took a minute or two before he realized I was going to let him go and when this realization hit him he gave a good kick of his tail and was gone, swimming off strong to fight another day. 

As I checked my leader with my trembling hands we started poling around looking for another one.  We saw several more tails waving in the grass and got a shot at a few but the wind blew us too close and they spooked or I would drop a shot over them and the line would spook them off.  We moved to another area and found a lot of laid up fish, floating in the grass just hanging out.  We tried to get a fly in front of them but the water was gin clear and the fish were really spooky.   After moving to the last spot we poled through some great looking water but saw nothing.  No Redfish, no bait just a good sized blue crab scurrying towards a grass clump.  The morning had passed us by and Gifford had to get to work so we called it a day and headed back in.  All in all it was a banner day.  Just getting back on the water was awesome, landing a personal best Redfish on the fly was the topping on the cake.   Days like today make me really appreciate how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful place.  Good Friends, Fly rods and Redfish.  Life on the fly.