Corpusfishing.com

[Towboat Trash]

"Jump in the cockpit and start up the engines
Remove all the wheel blocks
There's no time to waste
Gathering speed as we head down the runway
Got to get airborne before it's too late

Running, scrambling, flying
Rolling, turning, diving
Going in again
Running, scrambling, flying
Rolling, turning, diving

Run live to fly, fly to live, do or die
Won't you run, live to fly, fly to live, aces high"

"Aces High," "Powerslave" Album, Iron Maiden, 1984


The July sun rode high in the sky and it was darn hot 1 mile offshore Padre Island somewhere south of the pier about 2 miles. The morning had come and gone and the shrimp fishing up on the beach had tapered off to a less than productive lull at slack water. The last straw had been the lifeguard team training off the beach at a full swim between the boat and the drag net behind me on bottom. Before sometime ended up drowned I had made the quite executive decision to shackle in longer door ropes and head for deep water and kill some time before the tide started running again up on the beach. The Gulf a mile out was blue and clear and the time dragged on as the boat bobbed and dipped and the old 2 stroke motor sang a song of a net full of shrimp. With a ring that knocked me out of my trance I looked over to see it was none other than the great Billy Sandifer himself. "Coe-Linn WHERE ARE YOU!!!! WHAT?! I CANNOT IMAGINE WHERE YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU ARE DOING BUT CO-DEE IS UNABLE TO HELP ME AND I NEED YOU TO DO WHAT HE CANNOT!" Billy screamed over the noise of my old 2 stroke. Knowing I now had the upper hand, I was left with no choice but to play dumb. "A DO WHAT? YOU BOUGHT A LAWNMOWER??" I yelled, with all the glee of a prankster pranking. "COE-LINN YOU WILL TURN OFF THAT NOISE WHATEVER THAT IS AND ANSWER MY QUESTION! NO!! I DID NOT BUY A LAWNMOWER!!!! MY COMPUTER IS BROKE AND COE-DEE CANNOT COME OVER AND I NEED YOU TO FIX IT!!!" Billy screamed. Knowing I now had him, I replied "BILLY I'M A MILE OFF THE BEACH DRAGGING FOR SHRIMP IF YOU WANTED TO TRADE ME YOUR COMPUTER FOR SHRIMP ALL YOU HAD TO WAS ASK! BUT I'M NOT GONNA LIE TO YA YOU AINT GETTING NONE OF THE BIG ONES FOR THAT RAGGEDY ARSE BROKE DOWN OLD COMPUTER!" That did it, with a scream and a yell about me being supposed to be somewhere south of Big Shell catching TROUT not SHRIMP Billy got ready to hang up but not before I interjected a quite deliberately provocative comment about him needing the "Geek Squad" at Best Buy. And with that, Billy hung up and was gone.

--Dragging off the beach for shrimp and harassing Bily, July 2017.



Every single day, the sun rises and then it sets. People go about their lives, their days spent chasing a paycheck, punching the clock, eating, sleeping, and living. They come and they go, and the years pass. Everyone has the answer to it all, but no one has any answers to anything either. We think we have all the time in the world, and maybe we do, or maybe we don't. Each second is borrowed time on a hourglass that represents the time alloted us from beginning to end. None of us know how much time we have left and there's always something we wish we had done, or not left undone. I suppose the dream of rigging up a trout truck like Ralph Wade used to run with is one of my undones. And while that won't happen anytime soon, taking the time to do a strictly trout trip in mid summer is a good substitution. I readied my gear, and for the first time in years, allowed myself something new, a lure box on a shoulder strap. The truck was packed, ALL shark nonsense was left at home, and it might have taken years since Billy told me I was supposed to be trout fishing, but I was off and doing it.



And before I hit the sand, a quick stop at Novillo.


I love all the old Dunn Ranch history, but I've found over the years on charter, so many don't share that love of history..of the adventure and mystery of a time when there was no big brother, no taxes, no law, and not much in the way of other people...


"Rhynchospora colorata" - White-topped Umbrella Grass. It is really a perennial sedge also known as starrush whitetop, white star sedge, and white-toppd sedge.





And we're in such a drought, I suppose I really was just curious what wetland plants would be visible and how they would be faring. And some ants caught my eye and I stopped to watch them. It's funny, the smaller ones we see in the foredunes but the larger varieties seem to be present in other areas.




And I thought of how hard my old friend Jim, the prior Chief of Science and Resource Management worked to keep Novillo standing to where we can see one of Dunn's cattle line camps to this day with our own eyes. Miss Jim all the time, and especially all the great Island related conversations.




And I thought I spied some false wild indigo but the time was growing near to be on the beach so I took my leave.


But not without wondering how the cattails were able to survive such a drought time...


And as I took my leave...Bluebell Gentian! A beautiful site on a hot afternoon in mid island.


And the ever present Firewheel, or Indian Blanket.


And with that, it was time to get back to the mission.


And the water looked good.




And the pony mullet train was running south, a perfect sign.


I stopped and filled the bucket for later and took off.


And soon arrived at the spot of focus, where I would spend the next 2 days.




And someone's misdeeds had just been completed, but nevertheless the trout mission had to go on.


With excitement I worked this pool and the next 2 miles north and south until dark at low water, to find numerous trout following the lures, but refusing to feed. I hit the rack early, and was up by alarm at 0500 hours to put the smackdown on those trout or die trying.


And dawn's early light found me already 1,500 ft down the beach.


And I suppose it was eventually going to happen, but EVERY. SINGLE. CAST. was a trout, for several hours! It was a nonstop, unending, trout blitz. Zero skipjacks, zero reds, just trout. It was as if they had been there all along, and chose that moment in time to finally feed.


And anything, any color of lure, that I threw they would bite on.


And every time that the morning's light would shine just this way, a larger trout would strike as the lure would dance across the surface of the shadow vs the light.


And I would release them as fast as I could catch them, and it was all I could do to snag this pic quickly.


And it went on for hours. Soon it was near noon, then past it. I had caught and released over 50 trout in 5 hours, at least.




And then I found the mother of all rips.


Almost invisible to the eye, the rip lay dead ahead, given away only by the rolling waves every few minutes.


Just beyond the splash....


And that's when she hit!!! Rolling out of the surf, mouth open like an alligator on attack, she inhaled the lure with the attack of ten thousand missiles!!! This would be a personal best on lure in mid summer for me, and I was stunned at her length for the surf.



And a 26 incher would follow.




From there, the trout only increased in size from the morning, and I realized as I saw the pony mullet arriving, my gamble had paid off. I had gotten ahead of the mullet train from up north and was in the right place at the right time for their arrival. Rock on!



Sheer trout insanity!!


And then the reds showed up, running amongst the mullet train.


And I continued to work that pool like a man possessed, no stopping no letting up.


Right at 20.5 inches, perfect.


And dusk found me working my 4 mile stretch as the tide dropped over the bar and fish moved out.


And there was nothing better.


Sleep came quickly, and with it, the storm in the Gulf that was now 100 miles out and had flooded me out already at 2 am, and now at daylight. I had already moved once in the night, and would now move the truck yet again.




And I fished HARD just to see, but it was ALLLLL OVER. The bite was done from the incoming storm and swell.



And by noon, that was a wrap, and I was off. There's a saying, "You've got to go, to know." Couldn't be more true. I had a ball and I'm glad I went, as always. We surely don't know how much time we have left but time spent doing something a man loves outdoors can never be wrong. Best fishing and remember there's new trout regs now, and to be courteous and kind to one another, lots of folks on the beach these days.

Tight Lines,

--Colin
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Protect Padre at all costs for future generations to use and enjoy and never forget our freedoms aren't free.

www.padreislandexpeditions.com

[Rob]

Love it! Great pics too!

[Old Baitbucket]

Thanks for taking me on your fishing trip. Sitting on my computer 600 miles from the beach it was just like I was there. Also, the glimpse back in time starts me remembering 65 years ago of one lane wooden bridges, 9 car ferries and crab boils on the beach.
I'm changing my mindset from not how many years I have left to how many fishing trips I can get in.

[ziacatcher]

Great trip! Great story!

[awesum]

Thanks Colin!

[cuzn dave]

Fantastic writing and pics! Thanks, Colin.
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"If we don't leave any, there won't be any."
Capt. Billy
"Enjoy every sandwich" Warren Zevon

[CaptinAcademy]

Always love reading your stories and reports Colin!

Thanks!
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Steve-O
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My biggest worry is that my wife (when I'm dead) will sell my fishing gear for what I said I paid for it. ~Koos Brandt

[BayFly]

[HungerBuster]

Colin ain't no cheat. Those are all different. And that ONE. WOW.
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Fish ON!

[SeanHHH]

And yet another chapter for your book. Outstanding.

[Tyler]

Love it! Surf trout are my addiction.
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Like Corpusfishing.com on Facebook!

[jnd1959]

Thanks for the post. Haven't been here in a while and missed reading your pins trips.

[CopanoCruisin]

As alway, thanks Colin. Another just awesome presentation and storyline!

Bayfly wrote:
Old Bait Bucket", your photo of a wooden wading box, or bucket is like one I recently bought out of interest, due to never having seen one before. I haven't used bait for many years, but bought it purely out curiousity. The craftsman- ship is impressive for the one I bought, as most probably are in order to be very durable in the salt. Do you have any knowledge about the history of the box such as who and when they were first made, and are they just a Corpus Christi fishing tool? If you don't know maybe Colin does?

Flashing back 60+ years ago, we used to make that style of wooden bait buckets. Tommy at the Ingleside IGA wood give us kids the wooden apple crates, they were just perfect. Oh well, just saying