Corpusfishing.com

[Towboat Trash]

"Yarborough Pass? Well heck yes, that spot used to be HOT I tell ya! Hot! Caught many a fish outta there. Used to keep a boat down there under the old Sun Oil bunkhouse, ya know, in the slip. Buck Buchanan was the foreman down there back then. They serviced the well heads and whatnot back in the bay down there. I had a tri hull with a 40 horse. Best boat you can have ya know! I was in real good with the cook down there at the bunkhouse. Mexican fella. He got stuck down there ya see, on the old shell road behind the dunes that they used if the beach was too bad for driving. Well, the beach was real bad one day, and he got stuck back in there on that road behind the dunes, and was fit to have to spend all day there, and I came along and pulled him out with my Power Wagon. And well, after that ya see, every time he saw me, it was "Hola amigo! Come inside, I cook a meal for you!" I never had to worry about food after that-that fella always had a hot a steak waiting on me every time I fished down there, day or night.

--Ralph Wade, surf fishing legend, story from the 1960s

Well one night me and Jim Moyer were down there around Yarborough ya know, and our last trip Jim had got me good, see. Real good. So you could kinda say I owed him. And the day before I had been at Moody's, at the meat market over there, and by God if they didn't have the fattest bone from off a cow that you ever did see. So I said "Well look here! I want that one!" And they said, "You can't have that, it's not for human consumption!" And I said, "For you and for me, maybe not-but I got OTHER plans!" So I left with that big ole bone, and hid it real good in the truck there. And before dark when we got down to the pass, I got out the truck and I said over to Jim there, "HOLY JA-MOOLY! Look at that school of the fattest mullet you ever did see! Right there!! Quick! HURRY! They're gettin' AWAY gottangit!!" And Jim took off running with the cast net, and I grabbed that big ole bloody bone, and used some stainless safety wire tie to strap it up to the underneath of Jim's truck there. Well-back came old Jim, "They got away-every last mullet doggonit-you musta yelled too loud and they heard you and took off!" Well, before long, we hit the sack, me in the front seat, and Jim in the bed of his truck. And it wasn't long before I had my revenge. Those coons got underneath his truck, and it sounded like they was fighting half the coyotes plus each other for that bone the way Jim's truck was rocking back and forth! And finally, he had enough I suppose, and I'll be darned if he didn't pull out the .22 long rifle and start unloading that thing in every direction, and yelling and hollering to boot! And me, well I had to get the he** outta dodge and go spend the night in my boat under the bunkhouse. So neither of us got any sleep, but I got him good that time.

--Ralph Wade, story from later years. Rest in Peace Jim.

"The Island is uninhabited save by one old man, who follows the business of a wrecker, and lives not far from Point Isabel, in a wild-looking place, which he calls, after himself, "Tilley's camp." To describe one day's travel on this island will be sufficient. Starting early in the morning, and riding until mid-day, we would stop to noon it, i.e. to cook our provisions and graze our horses; resting an hour or two, we would then continue along the interminable beach until we pitched our camp at night. This monotonous course was pursued from day to day, and never were a set of men or horses more heartily tired of any one portion of this Earth's surface, than we and our steeds were of Padre's Island...On all sides is to be seen sand hillocks and and sand wastes; and, taken altogether, it is one of the most gloomy and desolate looking places which it has ever been our bad fortune to visit. It seemed to us to be a long slice from the western coast of the desert of Sahara, detached by some convulsion of nature, and floated over and anchored on the eastern shore of Mexico. How any human being could ever voluntarily choose it as a place of residence, we cannot conceive. Yet old "Uncle Tilley" lives there, and employs himself in gathering the wrecks of cargoes with which the beach is strewn, seeming perfectly happy in his loneliness, the undisputed lord of this desert isle."

--"The Scouting Expeditions of McCulloch's Texas Rangers, 1846" by Samuel C. Reid, Jr. (Texas Ranger)




Well howdy everyone! Those darn stories of Ralph's....just can't be beat, can they? I sure wish to have been around in those good old days gone by. What a time, what a generation. I've been studying everything from Cabeza de Vaca's personal account of his shipwreck and captivity by the Karankawas to Samuel Reid's account of the trip the Texas Rangers took down Padre in 1846 on their way to meet up with the US troops during the Mexican War. And boy, is it ever some interesting stuff. I know I'll never look at Padre or any of my old haunts the same ever since my eyes were opened to the history here. Every inlet and every stretch of shore I see, just makes me stop and think..."What must it have been like back then? 150 years ago? Or more?"

With the new rack up and finished after the old one rotted out, it was time for a beach trip to test everything out. Even though I had just gotten home from the river two days prior, off I would go to catch the weather window, armed with 5 jacks, several bonita, etc. to target mid summer sharks and see what the Island would show and teach me.



Looking good! The smell of the salt caused me to stop for a minute and just smile. It's been so long for me to fish, and I've missed it so much while fixing the trucks brakes, it's radiator, it's power steering pump, it's calipers and discs and lines, it's water pump, etc etc....


And as I got to Yarborough just at dusk on Sunday night, I was again greeted by the Yarborough "Road of death, abomination, and compete misuse of taxpayer dollars." How can we as a people put so much priority on @#$#^^#$ turtles and associated programs but this is what the taxpaying people get for a ROAD?


At 1.5 mph on my GPS, it was throwing me outta the drivers seat. I miss the old road of 7-8 years ago, before the cable and the caliche they put in.


And don't even THINK about driving this after it rains.


But the bay...it was utterly gorgeous...




I knew I was in for such a pretty night.



And the moon became visible just above the wind farms of death in the background. I sure do miss the view of 10 years ago here. Of just nothing but the sinking sun...no massive blades and no red eyes of creepiness way out there in the dark...


And the water was low.


And the real reason for my presence was revealed!! Onwards!!!


I love this light and it's construction.




And out I went.


But the blue crabs were thick!!




And the bait fish were so thick as well. But no shrimp, unlike my last trip, where I castnetted them.


And the morning sun came up, and it was time to get the day started after a long quiet, peaceful, night.




And my old coyote friend came to visit, as he had all night. Every trip I make here anymore, he comes and hangs around. While I sit out in the dark in my chair, he'll come up to say hello...but always from behind me. Sneaky devil.


What a morning...


And the reddish egret of the house came to get breakfast. I just love watching these fellas hop and jump around. You see, they confuse their prey, or try to anyway, but jumping and flapping their wings. If all works the way it's supposed to, they confuse the bait fish and get one.


And I took a walk in the cool water.


And I took a look north, but been there many times before, wouldn't go today.




I wonder sometimes if the cabin owners ever get sick of looking at those turbines as well....


And I packed up and headed out, and looked again at some fool's shenanigans from years past. Always wondered how the fellow didn't lose his truck doing that. Wasn't too long ago some other folks attempted same, hence the cable on the sides of the road.




But so pretty. And I love the smell of those algal mats.


And as I crept out at 1.5 mph...a sleeping Willet!


Bedded down.


And further up the trail....black skimmers! Mixed in with some laughing gulls. And THUS the source of all the "Kak-kak-kak!" all night long. The black skimmers feed at night if without any young to care for, and believe it or not, feed by touch! The shallows of Yarborough's shoreline is a perfect spot for them. They are the only bird with a longer lower mandible, and while some folks like myself try to sleep, they create a racket and swoop down over the water with their lower mandible open, scooping up the unaware!


Gull.


And the source of Ralph's old stories. Old pipelines and well heads.




And off the pipeline goes to the north. I've followed quite a bit of it. It's actually exposed completely in some places.


But off down the Island I would go.


And what a pretty day.


And the bunker lay undisturbed, a reminder of the last World War.


And the old Dunn linecamp at Green Hill lay quiet in the distance.


And the shrimper fleet was dozens thick offshore, as the season just opened.






But the island would beckon me south.


And the houseboat lay there still. I even called the fella a couple years ago to let him know where it was. Guess he doesn't want it anymore!


And back on the beach, a likely spot yielded....this!


Castnetting for trout! I like it!


So I got to work fishing.






And when it was over, I headed further south. And was greeted by two adult crested Caracaras.






And as I got ready to fish in yet another new spot...


This! Magnificent Frigate bird!! Fast warship!


These guys have the longest wingspan for their weight of any bird....and they can simply float for days on wind currents, and are often far at sea. Even Columbus documented seeing these on his little voyage in 1492. And they are thieves! For the next 2 days, I would see him harassing other birds to get them to drop their catch, so he could take it.


And boy, was it ever cool watching this old, old species...


The wingspan alone says "older than you'll ever know..." Freaking awesome....


But I had baits out, and 5 jacks to run...


And the day was a pretty one.


And as the sun set, I dove back into my latest read. I actually had to have this one printed overseas, as it's not in print form except at the Library of Congress, which is where it was found. An actually copy costs thousands and would be a collectors item. But not this India book prints copy!


I absolutely love this book, written by Samuel Reid of the Texas Rangers, who served in McCulloch's Texas Ranger group. Basically, they meandered down Padre to meet up with General Zachary Taylor's army, who was fighting the Mexican War. Translation? They had a little "fortification" on Padre....way way down south on Padre...BEYOND awesome...


And as always, Samuel Reid blows my mind away with his outlook at life, and his sensitivity, thoughtfulness, and compassion. We're talking a Texas Ranger here-not a "metrosexual" from Rhode Island, not the fake "Republican" Chris 'Big-un' Christie from New Jersey, and definitely not Bruce Jenner, who shall forever remained shamed by whatever it is he's had cut off, etc. etc.....SHAME

So if this Texas Ranger was this contemplative, why are fellas running around today acting "hard???" Any of you little gang freaks that keep spray painting everything as "hard" as one of those rangers? Real men THINK.


And isn't this passage just like this shark fishing? I just love it....this was written in 1848, after the Mexican War, by Samuel Reid, Texas Ranger. I've always questioned my sanity. Not a moment goes by that I'm not contemplating events and people. But it turns out-I'm not the only one.






And the new shark rack performed just as I had hoped. We galvanized this one after welding it up. For 150 bucks up in the great city of San Antonio, it was hot dipped and will now likely outlast me. For those who quoted me almost $3,500 dollars for an aluminum rack because that's the going rate....well....a place where the sun don't shine.

Not a hollow portion to the thing. Just straight angle iron and flat bar.


And as sun set, I reset and checked my five drops, and reset a bait or two.


And thought about what a beautiful moment the end of the day is on the Padre's Island in July.






I sure am blessed in this life. No matter what each day brings, I have a lot to be thankful for.




And night fell on the shark camp of the Kronks.


Glowsticks out.


And I cooked up a dinner just for my friend Charles there-who says this grill is just amazing. Here's for you my friend and fellow history man!



New York strip!


And a hungry Gypsy moth?


And the morning came quickly.







And I fished on. Baits out now a full 24 hours.


And soon it was burger time.


What a beautiful little stretch of "cold water upwelling." Lol!


The big Kahuna!






And it got hot!


Swim time!!!!




Zero visibility in the wade gut!









And after-I went lizard hunting again.




What a guy.






And other than one mid-day run that I literally watched my float offshore get violently dragged, splashing seawater every which-way, things were quiet. That same fish came back around 3 more times to hit that jack head, but no dice. I had the hook totally set the last time, but I literally felt it pull. Need some bigger circle hooks when I get back to town....




Back on the sand!


Steve uses some darn good UV resistant stuff on his rods!









And the end of the day was so pretty.






And the flowers of the night popped out all around as I wandered the foredunes...


Beach evening primrose....and it just lifted my spirits. The flowers bloom in late evening, and I coulda swear one moment I was listening to old Indian voices from over the dune....and the next, these flowers had opened up all around me...and I supposed now we know why the gypsy moths always show up right at dinnertime to land on the grill. Lol. They are seeking the nectar these flowers provide. The Indians used this as a tea, or as a skin ointment.


And I may not be a real Indian, but I sure know how to appreciate the same things they did...


More mysteries of the night...


And young ghost crabs came back out after the heat had died down...




And I came out of the dunes and sat down in the warm, comfortable sand to just feel the cool sea breeze blow and listen to the crashing waves.


Soft blow sand, everywhere...


And it was glowstick time, again.


And the night's dinner would again be no joke! Lol!


Darn right! Even a Little Debbie doggonit! (The fake Republican Chris 'Big-Un' Christie's favorite)


And the night passed eventless, strangely enough. Not a single run. Only two more breakoffs, like the night before.


And I had debated showing this next picture, but maybe it needs to be said. A few miles up the beach, lay this creature. No longer alive.

Not much else needs to be said. My heart sank in my chest. Two nights previous, I had landed this fellow from a bait just over the first bar around 0245. I had him on the beach in 3 minutes, and without taking pictures or even measuring him, I quickly released him. Why? Because I suppose I just had my heart set on a tiger or hammer this trip. And these fish aren't trophies. I don't care if they're only ever a memory in my mind, I just want them to get on back to where they belong quickly. Without even an adio, I put him right back into the 4 ft deep wade gut where I was camped and off he went with a splash, taking right back off for the next gut out.

And he didn't make it. Oz found him the next day 2 miles up the beach and let me know he had seen a fish up the beach from me.


It's a 7ft 4 inch spinner.


And this is what my actions caused. You know, it's like a lot of things in this life. It's not the doing that's hard, it's what comes after. It's the living with it that becomes hard. I absolutely hate this, and again, I really feel like not a darn one of us ought to even be after these fish. They just aren't made by the Good Lord above to be pulled up onto dry ground. I felt lower than dirt, I sure did, and I still do. But maybe actually showing this will make folks think. Like a lot of things, is this really what you are willing to accept if it happens to you? These fish are so fragile, and they haven't done a da*n thing wrong, nothing else than just do what sharks do out there in the blue deep. Tears welled up in my eyes when I thought about the 2 miles that this poor fish must have struggled to make it. And I just couldn't understand how every last one of us in this human race can do things like this for not a darn reason at all other than our own "sport."


A while later and a few miles behind me at that point...I grabbed a spoon again and tried to take my mind off of my actions...


And even cooked up another beach burger.


And watched mullet.


But it just didn't help. I had something now to live with, that there's no taking back. That there's no undoing.


And even this special little spot couldn't cheer me up.


Even my rod tried to point me the way...






And that was a wrap. Just like this dead end gut above, I just don't have all the answers, all I know is that there are dead ends everywhere to trip one up if we don't pay attention, and the road to finding the answers is long and curvy and hard. I suppose I should have shared photos of the fish-but I just don't have the heart. There were redfish runs in the evenings up until Wednesday, and the offshore snapper spots seemed to be yielding only bonnetheads and Triggerfish. Not surprising considering the Mansfield boats that basically "live" at those nearshore spots year round now that the Feds have shut down the outer water for snapper. There are trout in the high banks, and they're gorging themselves on the grander mullet that have been hanging out in that area this week. And there's whiting everywhere, of course. And one rogue pompano that I could have gigged had I had the gig, in the wade gut one night around 2200 while shining the gig light for crabs.

And then there's me. Just sitting here thinking yet again about what makes me tick, why I love to pursue something that doesn't always end well. What I could or couldn't have done different. Will any answers be in the writings of Samuel Reid there? I dunno, but I'm gonna keep looking.

Ya'll take good care of eachother and be kind to one another. It's summer and it's just gonna be busy out there, right? God Bless.

--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

[ziacatcher]

Nice thought provoking post!

[ROBDOG]

Thanks Towboat. Awesome read and awesome photography as always. I always get excited when I see you post one of your trips. I know what it's like to loose a shark that swims off just fine. I sucks and I hope that was my one and only time it happens.

[deputydawg]

I'm with Robdog and always excited when I see you have posted another adventure! You always provide three things, a great story, beautiful pictures, and something to think about! Today's was no exception! I'm not sure what to say about the shark except that I have pondered similar things. Wish I had the answers....

Thanks for sharing. I have a lot of time scheduled off this fall and hope to spend most of it down that way. Hope to catch you down there again!

[cuzn dave]

Great read as usual, Colin.
Thanks for taking the time to put it together.
_________________
"If we don't leave any, there won't be any."
Capt. Billy
"Enjoy every sandwich" Warren Zevon

[Willee]

Great post ... loved the photos ... what a dream trip for a lot of us.

Nature will prevail over mans actions and who knows the full story of why that shark did not make it back out to sea.

Makes me also wonder why one fish's life would be considered more valuable than another.
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Willee 361-563-1303

[AnmRanch]

Awesome pictures and write up. Thanks for sharing.

[CHRISLAYNE]

Thank you for taking time to put together your narrative with all the great photos.

As my 12 year old son now says, it was "epic"!!

With your words and pictures, you took us along on your journey and gave us a great taste of the Texas Coast.

[TitanUp]

Amazing post and report! I fully enjoyed your story and pictures. What an amazing adventure you had!
I'm sorry bout the shark though.... I'd feel the same way you do if that same thing happened to me. All we can do in that situation is keep our heads up and try and prevent it from happening again.

[Tyler]

Another great adventure and story and pics . I literally could sense the smell of the beach and the cool evening breeze and sand on my feet in those pictures.
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[awesum]

Great reading and pictures! I haven't gone way down the beach in years but sure felt like I was right there again.

Thanks.

[saltyhook]

FANTASTIC !!! Towboat. Your stories & photos are always top notch.
I can fully relate to your feelings about the shark. If we are honest with our selves I doubt there are very few of us that have spent time on the beach that have not had some similar experience of regret. I try to think of those things as natures plan, Like Metamorphosis- when it time to go its your time.
Just my way of dealing with it .
So good to hear you reference Ralph Wade a true friend, a veteran extraordinaire, & one he** of a yarn spinner .

Saltyhook

[10-7 forever]

First off, ran across this post from you researching camping and fishing on PINS, and have to tell ya, I couldn't get to sleep that night till I finished everyone of your posts, you have a knack of putting someone right there with you, great stories. Also would like to thank you for the shout out to LEO's. I just retired after 29 years in LE, and yes I have had my share of the "I will do whatever I want when I want" turds, and they are probably a big reason i didn't stay in for 30. Back when I first started out, had I been there, he would have been pulled out of the window opening, handed a duster, and ordered to clean every grain of sand thrown on you and your property, or I would have called for a King Kong wrecker (ones used to tow fully loaded broken down 18 wheelers) and have his veh. towed and impounded and smiled when he was handed an 8K bill for it. Present day policing though would call for me, to step back, let him call me what he wants, then engage in conflict resolution techniques, to not upset him, and try to show him with words the error of his ways, without arresting for such minor infractions of the law. Yep, needed to retire, without a federal pen in my future. Anyway, seen the bowels of this world long enough, ready to start seeing the beauty. Hope to see you out there sometime, and have a cold beer with ya, as i'm ready to start living and doing some fishing.

[deputydawg]

[Sherkus]

Wow. Guess I will head there tomorrow !
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I wouldn't take Tuesday off if you will show me a fish that bites on weekends!