Corpusfishing.com

[Towboat Trash]

"Did I fish with Louis? Louis was older than me...but sure, we fished together, ya know, hell there wasn't but just a few of us, fished it and all, back then... Seven of us, that's it...there was Pancho and Rawalt and what's his name and....well....say how's that tugboat job going? Hell-Louis and me-we was riding down the Island one time, ya know, on the backside and all-not the front side. That was too bumpy. No-down the backside. And that old contraption Louis had...no, we weren't in my Dodge Power Wagon that had airplane tires, did I ever tell you about that? It had airplane tires on it, ya know, like nothing you ever seen, no sirree. No, we were in Louis' truck and we were riding down south to fish or something or other and well, Louis reached down and all for the doggone bottle and that confounded thing was rolling around the floor and all, and it was damn hot, and neither one of us was no more watching where we was going than one of those women drivers doing their makeup driving down the road and all, and outta nowhere, BAM! And that truck come to a dead standstill, that was that! And white lightning I guess we wasn't livin right! Cuz hell, both of us ended up just about laid out across the hood, and sure enough we got out and seen we had driven right over the top of an old barge back in there ya know, like from a storm or something other, but under the grass by the time we run it over. And the top all rotten and all, and we had sure enough fallen right into it with the back tires. And Louis looks over and says, "Well what'ya make me do that for!" And I said "Well if you wanted to stop and find that hot ticket of a doggone bottle all ya had to do was ask!" And both of us had to walk all the way back out swatting snakes out the way, sure did, and find a big ole piece of lumber from off the beach and use it ya know to lift the back end of that truck up and outta that barge top. And come to think of it, ole Louis made me help carry the damn board and we never did find that bottle and get a drink, anyways!"

----Ralph Wade, pioneer of early surf fishing, WW2 Navy veteran, at a trip to the "Chow Hall," at Golden Corral




"On my way to Italy, from the Gulf of Mexico.
Riding on a tanker, feeling mighty low...
Nights are so lonely out on the ocean
too much time to dream of yesterday....
If only I could carry out my notion, and hit the trail for Texas right away.

I never thought when I was leavin', I could get so blue out on the sea.
But I bet you after all this grievin, it's that good old Texas soil for me."

----Ernest Tubb, "Seaman's Blues," 1965

I came here looking for something,
I couldn't find anywhere else.
But I don't wanna be nobody, just want a chance to be myself...
----Buck Owens, "Streets of Bakersfield," 1973

If you ain't got nothing good to say, then don't say anything at all!
----my daddy


Well howdy everybody! Hope all has been well. I suppose I been taking daddy's advice there, cuz it's been a while for me! Lol. This winter and spring has sure held some surprises, a lack of great fishing at least for me, and one heckuva lotta cold fronts! But boy oh boy have I worn out those Wolverines hiking around that dear ole Isla Blanca searching for whatever she'll teach me and show me. And I suppose there's just no way I'll ever get to be a fly on the wall back in the day with ole Louis or Ralph there, but I don't reckon I could hang with some of those old timers anyway! I've been gone a month straight working hard because old Obama there is convinced I just may owe him some tax money this year, but from what I hear, it's been a lil windy around here! So this trip was mainly just to go, for the sake of going, no big backside missions on the agenda, just a desire to see and study some birds and spend a lil time chasing another Lemon shark...

On Padre soil again!


And stopping to check out old Burton Dunn's ranch foreman Jim Lynch's fenceline that he helped put up after the seashore became official. Wonder if he liked Ernest Tubb, betcha he did! Jim there said during an interview in later years that they never ever did see rattlesnakes out there on Island. But that after a hurricane they were building this fence, ya know, to keep ignorant fools out of the Nighthawk area, etc. where in present day they continue to openly fire rifles across island at an illegal gun range, four wheel drive the whole place into destruction, light the pasture on fire with ATV mufflers etc. (5 times in the last 6 years?), operate illegal coyote trapping rings allegedly run by some 18 year old tools with no girlfriends, etc. etc. Oh, and don't forgot poach deer and dump old couches that a blacklight shone on in the dark would make the Good Lord above frown.


And while these things remain frustrating to those who love what this area has to offer us, at the end of every day, things could always be worse right? Photo taken somewhere in the Bluff I'm hearing? Shame!


But like many things, there's a solution for this nonsense! Near this old gate, lies a very significant area called Four Mile Hill. The old Kronks loved this site, and it's excavations proved especially productive in artificats and fish remains and pottery. And in 1919, there sat one ornery ex military man hired by Dunn to keep ignorant fools from coming in and poaching cattle. The whole island was fenced off from east to west, and he guarded the gate. Violators got beat down immediately no trial, no jury, no tickets.


Ready!


As I left, I saw this guy! I was not able to identify. Jay?


And the beach was looking good!


I was greeted by thousands of terns in breeding plumage, basically putting it out there in the name of "getting freaky" kinda like that fool in the Bluff with the high heels!


What a bunch.


And weed.




And sanderlings in breeding plumage!




Pretty mantle and plumage!


3 Royal Terns in breeding plumage and one unidentified gull! Herring gull?


And then this!


Cormorants!







Here are they are landed again. Red knots? So hard to tell! Shoulda used a zoomier lens!




Birding is dang tough-so I had to take a break, just like old times!






And lookit here...something just got DEVOURED! Nothing left but the feathers! Need to find and turn that varmint loose on the GLO land to punish some fools....




With the wind still howling, I took a break to do some exploring.


These mats are so delicate....just look at what footprints do...and if you look closely you'll see some GLO land-type ignorant fool's truck tracks from who knows how many decades back...


Mission accomplished! White pelicans!






And more evidence of ignorant fools from years back...



But then this guy! Jay? What is it??


And the only sound to hear was the sound of that Padre breeze around my undersized ears...


And it was off to the next destination. Now what you're looking at is an aerial signal. This patch of white is a WW2 signal...to the trainer planes. It's in the shape of an arrow and points southeasterly. It functioned as an aid to assist in lining up for the bomb drops and target runs.


See it's structure?






You can't really make out the arrow head, ya have to be up high! History...


And then it was on to one of my favorite places on island...


And later on, evidence of another cold stunned green turtle victim.




But as I left there, evidence of more ignorant GLO-land fools continued to remain....


And also evidence of severe d-bag "jeep club" crap-who I hear is being dealt with for what they did slalom drag racing the hills of the area....


You can see the damage miles away.


All in the name of, "It's a jeep thing-you wouldn't understand." Beyond ridiculous.


I love this spot! Typical anti stingray getup! Haha!


Drop it on those reds like its hot!


And stop to watch the water rise inch by inch...




And quietly observe the home of so many birds....







Once back beachfront, the weed was even higher!




And the weed worsened, if that's possible.




And the road was rough.


But I was so glad to be spending the night on the beach and not the bay, heck, it's too darn quiet back there and those old Indians never let me sleep noways.


And I'd rather the weed than that old algal mat mud!


But I knew where I wanted to be come morning, for some offshore activities...so I would end up forced to drive till just at dark.








And after a quick steak and beans, I hit the sack, and awoke to some quite beautiful conditions.






So serene...


Even after....the wind around 2am at the devil's hour howled up to some 40mph gusts...I got outta the rack finally and tried to turn the truck to the right a little bit to block some of that old ornery cuss of a wind, but the engine was cold and the sand soft, and that was all I could get outta her...


But before going offshore I fished a lil bit old fashioned normal style....and first cast of the cut bait got me this!


With blacktips cruising what should have been MY wade gut, and nailing bait all over the 1st bar, I traded my trusty boots for some Ralph Wade water slippers!


And did a little cold feet jig!


And was rewarded for it all with an immediate limit of doggone sheepshead!


In fact, the fishing was so good, and the wind howling so strong, that with the true offshore window being the next day, I took some time out time to do some reading.


Oh yeah!


And reviewed my ever present list of to-do's.


And studied birds again!


And again, wondered...why always one or two gulls hanging out around all those Royal Terns??


And the winds howled so bad, the tide jumped the doggone weed berm and starting the next great beach flood event.


But with the greatest birding pub that you will EVER start off with, what could go so horribly wrong!


I was stumped on what a bird's "mantle" was, so studying I would!


While that old weed rolled on in....


But soon I would relocate....to a new fishy area that would be my true offshore destination in the am....and run some darn baits!


Lonely out on that sea, old Ernest knew about that...


But with those old flute playing Kronks making all kinda noise out behind me, I would as always, retreat to my dune line to remember just what life is about, and if those Indians were gonna choose that night to attack, or leave me the he** alone and put those darn flutes away!


But those old Indians were gone....for as the experts have written about in their publications it's spring and they have left the Island behind to follow the food sources inland and hunt those long lost and gone bison that used to roam the prairies all the way to San Antone before the late 1800's droughts brought all this mesquite....and it was sad sitting there on that dune with all the Indian camps empty and their dugouts sitting over on the Bluff shoreline waiting for them to return and come back once again....


Nothing left now but the ghosts of yesteryear, some old vaqueros riding horses back to the chuckwagon, the spirits of the Spanish conquistadores, and the spirit of Louis Rawalt himself, who follows me and watches me everywhere I may roam on his Island...


And as that old sun set I took the time as I always do just to think and watch. All we are is passersby, this Island predates all of us, so what can be said about how we spend each and every day? What will we leave behind?




But the ocean and this Island tells no truths unless one really really shuts up and listens....and the wind howls, the waves crash, and the light falls from the sky as the animals of the night rise to forage, hunt, and roam listlessly the algal flats, the prairies, and the forebeach...



But dinner had to be eaten, so Ramen noodle and yams and porkchop time it was! Heck yeah!


And the night passed eventless albeit a few juvenile blacktips. And the morning cast a pall over the water as the light filled the sky.


And the conditions were finally right to get out after a few locations desperately needing my attention offshore....


Flat.




And the opportunity soon presented itself to steal coords, with the advent of the head boat!





Fire it up and roll!




But as expected, that old head boat hauled butt, and before I knew it, he was gone, and I was left a little over 5 miles offshore on top of another wreck, bottom fishing, and not being able to see land anymore. And as I shut that 40 year old motor down, I realized, I am constantly harping on the kayakers being out further than they oughtta-and look at my behind! And as the water lapped quietly on the sides of my little inflatable boat with a massive hole in the bottom that I patched myself a year ago, I realized how alone I finally was. The water temp was reading 68.5 on the fathometer-cold enough to cause hypothermia and death in the hours that it would take me to swim back in to the Island I love so much without my wetsuit on. And if anyone has no excuse for being out there like that, it's me. I've worked on the water my whole life...I respect it but it will never respect us back. It's nature doesn't have that capability. And as I stared into the deep blue abyss of 65 feet of water below me, I wondered to myself, why am I truly out here? What could I not find on that island that drove me this far offshore? One slip of the knife, a fin, or a bump from one of my bull shark buddies will hole this old gal, and down we go quietly into the frigid cold deep. I had to ask myself, is there something you don't like about this life? It's just you and your Creator buddy. You have something to come home to now don't you? And I swear I could almost hear a voice from above telling me, it's time to go now Colin. You've had your time with Me alone-so go back to what I have planned for you and be thankful for all of it, the good, the bad, and the ugly. I am with you. So with land out of sight, and only a breeze from the east and my GPS to point me the right way, I headed back...


And as I turned around to fire that old girl up, I felt the presence of another, and turned around.


And there he sat, just to take a rest, a desperately needed solace of shelter and rest, and I realized how much we had in common that day. After he had regained himself and had a while to sit with eyes closed resting, I headed back towards land, careful to avoid hitting any offshore trash that might hole that old boat.


And stopped to fish a school of juvenile bait fish and krill.
And was rewarded!


Bonita!


The food source for the Bonita that day.






What a hard pulling fighter....




Stripes!




And after the sharks moved in, I had to move along, and within a short while was blasted with something my hooks couldn't handle. About 1300 hours, I headed to the beach to prepare for the afternoon and night's battle with the blacktips....


And the afternoon trade wind cried "Mary," like it always does, and I silently geared up for some daytime shark fishing and the night as well.
Prepared with plenty of fresh bait, there would be heck to pay for somebody!


And it was utterly beautiful to be in that place, in that pinched down gut, and alive and well.





So out they went, so I could trout fish a lil bit underneath some good ole weed!


And as the sun set I rattled up a few good old mini kings!




And then? I kicked it!


And listened to some good old AC/DC!





But the morning sun rose eventless other than a few small blacktips and one small Lemon. All released as always, and without some RIDICULOUS PICTURE OF A 3FT SHARK BEING SAT ON WITH ITS MOUTH JERKED OPEN!




But it would be time after 3 days to head back in, so I packed it on up for the 5 hour drive off through the weed and sinkholes...


But not without stopping to inspect some unique dune erosion....










These back to back fronts really have put the hammer down on the lower beach foredunes this year!




So pretty.


So pretty and so full of the spirit of spring on the Padre's Island...


And I knew that this is truly what Louis would have wanted, for the Island to be enjoyed in this way....for folks to stop-listen-see-and return to their worlds changed forever in some small way or even in big ones. NOT to come down the Isla de Malaquitas with their hearts full of a desire to take and take and take from the fish that live there-after all this home is theirs, ours lies back in town...


And the ocean rolled on into the shores while I thought....


So I got off that dune with that thought ringing in my head and on north I rode.


But not without noticing this wonderfully vibrant goat's foot, railroad vine---that believe it or not.....lives from fresh water. How could it grow so fast and so green? Where would it get fresh water?! From the water table under the foredunes believe it or not! The lone survivor who stayed behind with the Wrecks of the 1554 Spanish flota ships knew this....thus how he survived alone for 3 months waiting on the salvage ships to come and to rescue him...



And before I knew it, it was 6 hours later and I was off! Lol-thanks to a white dually that spent one night at the 48MM, partied, left beer cans everywhere, and then left before me that morning, utterly DESTROYING the only two ruts available to ride in. Sorry for the lack of fish or fish pics. I could have posted more...but....was that really the point of the trip? Lol-nah. Hope ya'll are able to get out there and see some of the birds-it's so great to see them have the beach to themselves with the weed protecting them from vehicles as they hang out at the water's edge. As always, tight lines and I hope the winds let up enough for some of ya'll to fish.

Take care,

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

www.padreislandexpeditions.com

[Rebecca of Sunnybrookfarm]

sow thistle and a centipede.....

look a girl up sometime when you come through again....
becky
_________________

[kayakattack]

Amazing report and pictures as always! Nice Fish too, thanks for the great read
_________________

[Frederick dunphey]

Cool report and pic's. Thanks for sharing

[parrot]

Great read, thanks.

[BrandonFox]

I live for your reports...

Thank you!!
_________________

[wallhanger]

Awesome, thanks.

[deputydawg]

LOVE IT!!!! I been wondering how you were and when the next chapter was going to be! Thanks for sharing the adventure!

[OSOMURF]

Thanks for nourishing the soul Tow Boat.

[dasr1985]

great post friend!

[HungerBuster]

Man that driving looks ROUGH. You gotta love the beach to put up with that kind of hammering. I'd be washing sand outta the under carriage for months! Just had my brake lines literally rust through too =) Gotta love the beach. As always, thanks for the detail and effort. The next best thing to being down there...
_________________
Fish ON!

[Towboat Trash]

Thanks Jay! Will do soon. Brandon, HB, and everyone else, thankyou for the kind words and I'm glad you enjoyed the read. Water's warming up, good things are coming soon hopefully!
_________________
Protect Padre at all costs for future generations to use and enjoy and never forget our freedoms aren't free.

www.padreislandexpeditions.com

[FishLady]

Awesome photos, awesome read!...as usual.
_________________
FishLady

[Roofish]

Be careful on the water Colin & I told you we all loved your reports & await them patiently. Nice Bonita & kings, gotta fish with you for sure


Rudy
_________________
ROOFISH

[SteveV/RippinLips]

Great Report.. What Model avet Reels are you using for shark fishing, if I may ask?
_________________
Be Good and Good Luck