Corpusfishing.com

[Towboat Trash]

"Bob Allen was the best fisherman I ever knew. We fished together for years. He could catch a trout when no one could. One time me and Bob Allen were fishing at the 26 and old Charlie Green came by, seen us, and wanted to stop. Well, we had caught 40 trout already and were working on 40 more, and he knew it. He had looked at our foot prints from the water to the truck ya know, and could tell we had been hauling fish outta that hole right and left all morning. "Ya catching anything?" he asks. "Nothing but a sunburn, move along Charlie," I told him. He says, "Well, hey now, what's that Bob Allen's got?" And Bob couldn't turn around you see, because he was holding a trout and trying to hide it from ole' Charlie there. And we both knew Charlie was gonna potlick us, and those there were our fish doggonit! So when Charlie went to get outta the truck, I told him "You better move along, this here spot isn't for you!" And Green said no, the beach was public by God and he was gonna fish right there too whether we liked it or not! And I told him then that the REST might be but THAT spot right there to the left and to the right was our's that day, doggonit, and if you don't move along and be quick about it I'll hurt you, I swear it! And well, Green didn't like it, but after that, he sure enough moved along. And Bob? He was still standing back there on the bar behind me holding onto that trout."

--Ralph Wade, story from the mid 60's


Howdy everybody! I sure do love those old stories from the old days and how it used to be on old Isla Blanca. What a wild bunch they were! Only a handful of men that none of us are even big enough to fill the shoes of nowdays. Trout fishermen one and alike, linen line, Penn reels, sleeping on the ground wrapped in a tarp or if lucky, in an old Army green tent. Fixed their own reels, their own trucks, and ate meals out of a hole in the beach with charcoal in it and a grate on top. Don't like sand in your food? Too bad. No $70,000 Ford Raptors on the beach and no pink Columbia shirts. No absolutely, positively ridiculous "AVET" craze going on where everyone and their brother has 400 pounds of drag and chemically sharpened hooks. No bootie call music on the radio and no color tv.

For all the above reasons and then some, this little writeup needs to be devoted to those old die hard trout fishermen. Because truth be told, I am embarassed and humiliated to be driving around with a telltale "I'm a butthole" shark rack...nine gazillion dollars of rods and reels....a stainless steel grill....a freaking BOAT... I couldn't walk a step in the shoes of those old fisherman that's for sure. Trout fishing is my heart on that beach...2nd only to live mullet fishing...which is another means of targeting those elusive big shouldered surf trout. And while we seem to be a little behind this year, the trout have started to come back again on the beach, and the surf just recently got righter than rain for fishing compared to the past doggone 9 MONTHS since last fall when our first early weed infestation began and the back to back cold fronts started coming in. So here we are, it's July, and the recent storms got rid of the weed, and the low tides of July are here. And there's NOTHING better than the low tides of mid and late summer, so down the Island I would go....

But first....some history here...this is Ralph maybe 15 years back with his trout setup. The old timers like him have been so scarce anymore, taken over by the "AVET 400lbs of drag" knuckleheads outfitted with frozen shark bait they paid 200 bucks for at the bait stand, and by the passage of time. Ralph always said he would have at LEAST five rods on the front of the truck all with different color lures. A man would throw each lure at a spot until he caught something. If nothing, then move along. Road hunt all day and sometimes ALL NIGHT too-under a full moon. When the day was done, a man would pull over, get in the back of the bed, where a made up bed, a stove, and a meal waited on him. Always keep a live well full of mullet on the front basket as well. And three rods from the left a story lies therein, but we'll get to that. A young Chris Sessions is who that looks like to the right! And look at that-a Dodge-knew there was a reason we were old pals!


And here's another. A very very much YOUNGER Ralph Wade here...from back in the days when potlickers got "hurt" by the "potlick'ees" and a beach truck was so far from a "Ford Raptor" that cost over 50 grand that it wasn't even funny. You see that bed and pillow with blankets on the flatbed in back? When they setup camp they opened the wooden "doors" around the bed like a doggone ice cream stand, and propped them up. Yep it's official-you and I wouldn't hold a candle to the old timers-they were tough as nails. Looks like Ralph might finally found that bottle that Louis kept looking for during the "bargetop incident." You see any grown men wearing pink Columbia shirts here? Those old timers in the back look like about the last ones to try and potlick!


But moving along-once I arrived at the beach Sunday-the surf was strangely way up due to a howling wind. Good deal, let it blow...


And the fourth of July merriment was evident.




Just a blowin...


Oh, to be young, dumb, and full of....lol.


But still hoppin' busy.


"Brown chicken, brown cow?" LOL...


And oh man....I gotta use for that if ya'll ain't gonna use it....trade ya my old broke down, no air holding, piece of you know what boat?


And I told ya we'd be back to that third rod from the left so here it is. Not too long ago Ralph wanted me to have some old rods he had, and I never knew how I could ever accept anything like that from him. He wouldn't hear otherwise, and you better do what you're told when the old timers insist, so here it is. He told me to fish it, and I honestly didn't know if I ever could or even would. Pancho Brundidge built this rod for Ralph as repayment for helping put a fence up in town back in the 60s. And I've debated restoring it, leaving it alone, hanging it on the wall...I know the reputation of Pancho's lures as some of the first lures ever made and used here in south Texas and this rod lies right up there with them to me. Just the sight of the afternoon sun on this rod gave me goosebumps, it truly did. I hope I've made ya happy there Ralph and thankyou. And Pancho, God rest your memory and may this rod carry on your legacy as one of the very first lure fishermen here.


Folks actually laughed at me for buying a Penn 9M...but that's what Ralph said to put on here...and I'm in love with it now...no overpriced 400 dollar "AVET" going on this one...


There it is. Pancho's wrap. Just simple, tells no lies, harbors no illusions...




And the beach was totally deserted past the 5...


And a waxing moon came up early in the night sky.


And I felt like the Indians were glad to see me back yet again...not those devilish Island raiding Comanches but the Naked Indians...the Kronks...those flute playing cannibalistic ones....


This hill....while burnt and scarred temporarily from the wildfire was one of their camps. Behind it in summer and on the opposite side if during a northerly flow was the site of one of their big beach fishing hideaways on the Padre's Island. Can you hear their flutes playing softly? Feel their ghosts live on here?


This is my recommendation for those interested in a higher level book on the eating patterns of the Kronks, which truly tells a tale of a large part of their lives and migratory habits. You see, unlike today-a Naked Indian didn't just drive around wherever he wanted to...one had to go ONLY where there would lie a food supply for that season.


I soon found the night's campspot a lot further north than usual for me, and ate fished until about midnight.


All was quiet that night other than a howling wind, and the morning brought a pretty sunrise to enjoy.


And LOADS of pony mullet. All hail, the "chopping block."




And in the words of Kathy, loads of "sea onions!" Lol.






I kept right on fishing through the morning, so thankful to be actually surf fishing again.




But the fishing was slow.


But the tides were so low...the perfect week to go have a look see on Island...


But the beach was all mine.


And eventually I geared up to switch to some offshore "research."


But first-a swim was in order.


And some underwater pics with this fancy little point and shoot camera.


Snorkeling for shells!








I had a ball.




But soon it was shark time...the hour growing near...and here's one of my newer leader creations...


But I soon discovered I had no fighting belt...so one would be created right then and there...


And out one massive southern marinated all afternoon in fish oil, two jacks, and a Bonita would go...








And all was quiet and the Island remained an enigma...


Checking for any Indians hiding behind the dunes...


There's one right there....


And up the moon came.


And dinner was served. HEB had a sale-two New York strips for 6.50!


And after a long long night of blacktip mayhem continuing until they literally saw the sun coming up, I was left with this.


And a pretty high tide.




And baits still out there untouched.


So I went topwater throwing for trout...but the Spanish were too thick!




Don't pay attention to my towboat gut...look at the pogy he ate and spit up...thus the reason he was in that pool to begin with...breakfast.


And soon enough I would head offshore to carry out some more "R&D" and get into some kings.




And in yet another new spot hunting structure I would find what I was looking for through depth sounder/Mannolure bottom testing device. Lol.


Sea whips and bottom rocks!


Equal....FISH.


Bam.


And again.







In fact, the snapper SO THICK that they swarmed the boat from the bottom the minute I stopped to check the spot out. Two casts equaled a limit.

But back in to the beach I would eventually go, and continue marinating such a devilish beast.





And ready the 3day Ray I was planning on rerunning.


Oh yeah.






But it was time to relocate due to falling water temps...not wanting to go north, I would head south.





Adios most awesome wade gut ever.


What a GREAT looking beach...


And soon it was trout time!




A few to be exact!




Love it!






And they got tired of the old Silver...so on goes a 51MR!


Followed by a Catch 2000....every time I switched a lure, new fish would wanna hit it, so on the beach kept coming reds and trout and even a whiting!


You fatty!


You too.


And I kept a little for myself.


Onwards!!


And bye bye great spot...


Shell hunting again...


BEAUTIFUL!


And with a super low tide going on, I went structure hunting up and down the old beach highway.


Ouch!


So cool. Love this time of year.






Full of mullet actually...a long train of them...




Wreck! Wreck! This one was a pleasure vessel lost in the 70's due to engine trouble. Got the story about it around here somewhere.


But soon enough it was bait time again.


And more New York strips!


And time to organize the days offshore coords.


And after a 3rd uneventful shark night....the morning brought time to fix more breakoffs and retie more mainline in yet again, etc etc. A morning trip offshore proved fruitless as well. Water temps down to 74 degrees-not good.




Trolling lures down the 1st gut for about 6 miles fruitless...







So I cooked a beach burger!


And due to obligations with the Nueces County Appraisal District's tax raising arses, I had to jet off after only three nights.


Bye Padre...there was a doe hiding behind these oats, but he ducked down on me!


And that was a wrap. Hope ya'll enjoyed a few of the pics, I for one got to finally run five shark drops for two nights and fish casted baits for one. I'm happy. Catching a few trout was just an added bonus, as are the much improved beach conditions. If there's one thing I know, it's that my heart and soul are just as connected to that expanse of white sand and blue sea as they have ever been...and that each time I go, the Island teaches me just a few more things. That'll NEVER change. It's like what that moronic boob Wooderson from "Dazed and Confused" said.




Hahaha.... I'll never be right, sorry. But its true...we just keep getting older, the Island? Stays the same. Of course, paralleling that to some molesto nonsense was probably a bad example. Say,wonder if Wooderson woulda liked that wild clothes optional Kleberg beach?

Ya'll be good. Hope to see some good fish caught soon. It's finally right again on the surf.

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

[david weber]

Thanks for post.....super!

[FishLady]

As always, great read!!
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FishLady

[HungerBuster]

Now why is it that I never happen across a wade gut like that? That was amazing. Glad to see you got on them. And great report as always-- don't need to ask about the weed, road, water or gear with all of those pictures
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Fish ON!

[Blast-n-Cast]

Looks like fun. May want to delete the pic of the bag of fillets though

[deputydawg]

Amazing as usual!!!! I loved every word and picture and smiled the whole time! I can't wait to get back down there. Thanks for making my night!!!

[Bigrock]

[AnmRanch]

Great write up with pictures. Thanks.

[Baffinboy]

Thanks for taking the time
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But you ain't got no legs Lt. Dan, I know that

[Baffinboy]

Thanks for taking the time
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But you ain't got no legs Lt. Dan, I know that

[Frederick dunphey]

Awesome report. Thanks for sharing!!

[wallhanger]

I always enjoy these stories. Its like taking us along for the ride. Thanks.

[OSOMURF]

Man TT, seems like there is a calming , cool breeze after reading one of your posts. Glad you and the beach are back. TFTR

[OSOFARAWAY]

Thanks for the report, you made me want to pack up and head down right now.
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Salad, Salad, everywhere and not a bite to eat.

[shallowsport]

What a great read. Thanks for the post.