Corpusfishing.com

[Prof. Salt]

Saturday morning was chilly but the forecast showed it would warm up nicely once the sun came up. I decided not to make the long drive to see if white bass were in the shallows yet (they are one of my favorite Spring fish, but when the mornings are cold they don't spend too much time in the shallow water where I can find them with a fly rod). Instead of heading for fresh water, I decided to venture over to Copano bay to see if reds were in the shallows. This time of year the grasses have thinned out and tides are really low, but with morning being high tide, I figured it was worth running out to see what was happening. I arrived well before daylight with the intention of paddling across open water to check out some favorite shallow areas. Half a mile from the truck I questioned whether I had locked it up, so I turned around to ensure it was secure. Once I confirmed that yes the truck was locked, I began to paddle again, but with daylight coming on I stayed close to shore to watch for activity. It was still dark enough that looking away from the sunrise I couldn't see fish, but as I quietly moved along I heard a swirl behind me against the shore. The early daylight lit up enough for me to see the wakes of a group of reds that had gone past me unnoticed the first time. I turned the kayak to close the distance, and as I got close enough to get the bait ahead I let it fly. The 1/15 ounce weedless jig-head and Z-man Trick Shot lure sailed out and landed 6 feet ahead of the visible wakes ...but the fish were in a spooky mood and immediately scattered in all directions and stopped to assess the situation. With no more wakes to help me locate them, I realized it was just a matter of time before I spooked the already uneasy group, so I continued quietly in the original direction to check the flats. I figured maybe this school would be found by someone else who launched after me and they could have a shot at them.

The target flats area turned out to be so shallow that any red would be visible above the surface of what little water was there. I stopped and watched the area for several minutes to see if there was activity. Lots of wading birds were standing around but nothing was going on, so I headed back to the open part of the bay to work shorelines. It took several miles before I found reds, but along an edge of an exposed oyster reef I saw a swirl ahead and then a bronze tail poked above the surface briefly. A cattle egret ran over and stood beside the redfish, looking for a free meal. The red was working slowly, and with clear water and no winds, I needed to be stealthy on approach. I managed to get within casting range, and the bird flew away without spooking my fish. I sat for a couple of minutes to wait for visual confirmation so my lure could be placed in the right spot and minimize the chance of spooking my target. Finally the fish showed his back and I placed the lure out in front. I gave it a few seconds for him to creep closer and then began to slowly crawl the lure across the bottom. The fish had just passed my bait, but he sensed the movement and swung back to inhale it. I felt the solid thump and set the hook. It was a mid-slot fish but didn't pull any drag for the first few seconds, it just ran around the kayak into slightly deeper water and floundered around. When I finally got it close, the fish saw the net and woke up. He ran 15 yards out and then as I got him turned, the lure flew back towards me. Bummer. I sat still and watched the area where the first fish had been, and after several seconds a second fish swirled the surface. I thought there might have been a few fish there together, and was glad to see confirmation. This fish saw the lure land and ran over to it and just looked at it. I hopped it back towards me and he followed, but I had to stop before hitting the end of my rod. For a second it was a standoff, but when I finally moved the rod tip sideways he attacked the plastic and shook it like a dog. I assumed maybe it was deep enough to hook the fish, but as I put pressure on the rod, the front half of the lure flew out of the water and that was the end of the game with that particular fish. It darted past me into the deeper water with the tail of the lure still in his mouth. I switched to a Z-man Crawfish lure, hoping it would be easier to detect and look like food.

I looked ahead at more oysters exposed and saw what might be another fish. My movement was kept intentionally slow as I eased through the clear water. I could see all the details beneath the surface, and above the shoreline the morning sun was lighting me up and making me easy to spot for the fish. I took it slow and gently eased closer to the next small disturbance on the surface. It was a red, and I could see that he was mid-slot and busy searching in the mud for breakfast. I had to wait for the fish to get farther from me and turn away before I risked a cast. With such good visibility it was a lot like bow hunting from the ground where movements must be timed to avoid spooking the target. Once the fish faced away I gently placed the lure ahead of him and began to crawl it back. He pounced and ran around the kayak, creating a mud screen and heading for deeper water. He came aboard without problems and went into the fish-bag. I continued on quietly, checking every part of the oyster beds for possible fish. It took another 200 yards of searching before I saw a red's back lurch above the surface ahead, with a cattle egret walking beside and working to steal a shrimp or minnow from the redfish. Before I got into range the bird vacated the area, but the fish was unbothered. I got to where I hoped to intercept and after sitting for over a minute, the fish moved again and gave away his position. My first cast was ignored as it passed just ahead of the fish. Maybe he didn't see it or maybe he was paying attention to a different prey item. The second cast earned his attention, and he rocketed ahead and hit the bait. I felt the thump and waited for half a second before setting the hook. This one was hooked well and as he fought we spooked a few other redfish out of the oysters. Oh well, sometimes catching one costs you a shot at others.

After the second fish was on ice, I continued the rest of the oysters without more contacts. Now it was either head for the truck or circle back around to work all the oysters again. I circled around for a second try, knowing the odds were less favorable but that it was still my best chance of finding one more fish. As I crossed the open knee-deep bay, I disturbed several schools of larger reds, and their wakes were easily visible. I made one or two half-hearted casts but spooked fish aren't what I wanted to catch, so I continued on to the beginning of the oyster zone. This time around it was quieter, but in one stretch of shell that had no signs the first time through, I found a single feeding fish heading my way. I waited with a foot holding me still, and the next time I got a visual the fish was already past me but within range. I placed the bait ahead and just inside the oyster shells showing above the water. A gentle hop allowed the bait to vault the oyster shell and it began to crawl towards me. The fish finally took notice and suddenly my only worry was keeping him buttoned until the net brought him safely into the kayak. I ended the morning with 11 miles paddled and three mid-slot fish aboard, but given the tricky conditions I was happy just to have a few fish.

[ziacatcher]

As usual Glen, nice report and nice fish. 11 miles! Dang

[CopanoCruisin]

A very nice report sir! It certainly awoke some great memories in me.😁
……..cC

[awesum]

White bass will be there when you go. Nice!

[Prof. Salt]

[Rebecca of Sunnybrookfarm]

[awesum]

[Prof. Salt]