11.11.26 Honoring Veteran's Day, taxes don't cover that, a new spot, and that truck...

 

     Today we pause to honor all those who have served in the United States Armed Forces. This day started as Armistice Day on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918 just as World War I was ending. In 1954 Congress amended it and it became known as Veteran's Day honoring all who have and will serve during times at peace and at war. The other military related holiday, Memorial Day, honors those service members who have died while on active duty. 

     Yesterday's post was all about taxes, HOA's, and how cheap they are and for all that we get for them. I did leave out a few things. Yes, landscaping is included, but not all of it. We are responsible for mulching our beds and trimming the trees and bushes. So yesterday was the day.

      Our home is a cookie cutter basic model. What we have is pretty much how it was built back in 2015. The original owner kept it as she bought it without many improvements inside or out. When we bought it we did some work on the inside and at some point we'll do the outside. For now everything is clean, and most importantly it all functions as it should. That's a far cry from what we had back in New Jersey, where at every turn something needed to be maintained, fixed, or replaced.

     The hardest part of the morning was trimming the some-type-of-oak tree that sits in front of the house. Neighbors tell me these trees suck, and were a poor choice when the neighborhood was built. They grow weird, drop acorns all over the place, and the roots come up to the surface and will one day displace any concrete in the area. 

      Luckily my neighbor had a tree pruner in her garage that she said, "Was used once years ago". It is a basic model with a very small gap where the cutting blade does it's work, so getting the branches where they needed to be before pulling down on the cord wasn't easy. And these oak branches are thick, and hard. My neighbors who stay on top of these trees pay a service $350 to keep them at bay. So it was worth any burn I got in my arm muscles, and rope burn in my hands. And of corse I couldn't have done it without a pickup, which I loaded up and will bring the county dump, which, is included in my taxes. 

     After I was done with that I ran over to the control center at Sun City to have my truck registered and my automatic gate pass installed. Since I got her I've had to drive to the main gate to get in with a pass, rather then use the entrance and exit right near the house. It was there I was reminded, "Hey, you're leaking something", but more on that later. 

      I took my some time for myself and went back to the water. I figured it would just be a short outing of more of the same, lots of steps with very few casts, and I was right. 

     I walked until I could get no further due to the depth of the creek that was emptying out of the marsh. These exit points are the last to hold water and in fact the water still pours out way into the incoming tide. While there were no fish there was continued learning to be had. Today it was more data into my head about the grasses, and specifically the height of them. There's tall grass and short grass, and each of them are found in different bottoms, and their location can tip you off to how much water is there. Short grasses don't get much water, except on a flood tide, while the taller grasses are found where the water is more abundant. And the ground where the shorter grasses are are easier to walk through, taller is more muddy, due to being near water a lot of the time. I don't know if my observations are 100% correct, it's just what I'm deducting during my outings. 

          So as I did yet another walk of shame I took a peek at a pond that I've passed numerous times. While I've been focused on the flats, and tailing fish on flood tides, I thought I'd take a look just for shits and giggles. And to my surprise there was life inside that bathtub. 

       I was there real close to dead low. I'm not sure how much water is there on a higher tide but either these fish stay put or get trapped inside between the tides. The problem is, like most wading spots in the Lowcountry, getting around is a daunting task. Back in these swamps there's 

no beach, no sand, but there is lots of mud, mud that swallows a leg pretty easy when you step down onto it. That's the pluff mud they talk, and warn, you about. And then these spots aren't heavily trafficked by humans, and there's, "Gators in them there parts". I kind of get the feeling 

that if you stay around places that are regularly occupied my people you're safe, but step into a gators territory, and you're on your own. I don't know who makes the above signs as a business, but they must be doing all right, they are everywhere in the Lowcountry, including across the street from our house. 

     But if taking my life into my own hands and wrastling a gator to find some redfish then so be it. I told Theresa if I don't come home then use the "Find My iPhone" app. No doubt they'll be able to track it in the gullet of some beast who calls the places I fish home. It reminds me of the scene in 

JAWS where Hooper (Dreyfus) and Brody (Shieder) cut open a large shark in the middle of the night. If that happens to me you won't be able to read about it here, unless Theresa makes a guest appearance and tells the story. 

      So what did I find? Well I saw fish. No tailing fish but some pretty good wakes, some mudding, and swirls. I made a bunch of casts, long ones, and had my fly close enough where I thought I was in the game. I did have one follow but it blew out. 

      Again, there's a few problems here. Higher water pushes me back into the marsh. And the trees behind love to grab flies in mid-air. The bottom of this pond if you will is all silt and mud, but with that there's nothing to hang up a fly on. I did take a few steps in and, after I sunk, the dark grey cloud from disrupting the bottom eventually moved out into the deeper water. It takes a long time for it to settle back down. This place would be perfect for a paddle board, if I only. Can you imagine me flipping off of it in the middle? That's not going to happen. 

     I have a plan, and you know how they usually go. It's going to take some adventuring deeper into the swamp, but what could go wrong? But I have to get on these fish. And just when I felt I found the Ark of the Covenant all I had to do it jump on Facebook to see I'm a loser. Yesterday Capt. Brian Vaughn was out with his daughters and of course was on the fish. These are screen grabs from a short video he posted. Birds up, fish up, and taking poppers on the fly off the surface. 

     I'm not jealous, a little envious, maybe. But I know his success comes from years of experience and being dialed into a fishery. But I can say how cool it is to grab your daughters and 

put them on some big bull redfish with all of the takes able to be seen. No walking through the swamp, no mud, no bugs, no gators, and no fish. Isn't that much more fun? I'll get there one day.

     And now my lovely Scarlet. I do love her, even though we've only been together for a bit. But like an old lady, sorry girls, who has bouts of stress incontinence, she developed a leak a few days ago. I noticed it when my pristine concrete driveway had some spots on it. 

     I did my best to diagnose it and first confirmed what the fluid was. It was red which is a tell tale sign it's transmission fluid. Oh, shit. Here we go. If something were to be catastrophically wrong I don't know if I be more upset or scared that I'd have to face Theresa. 

     Through You Tube I learned that transmission fluid under the front of a truck doesn't mean the transmission is leaking, or done. There's cooling lines that run into the radiator to keep the fluid cool, so, it doesn't mean it's the end of the world. When I first found her she was sitting in the woods at the back of the used car lot waiting for a newer transmission to be installed. 

     The above picture was when we first met on September 14th. Before I called her mine they had the new transmission and radiator put in. So even with the leak, and me trusting of the sellers, I knew it wasn't a lost cause. But I have to say all I could remember when I pulled into the used car lot yesterday was the page I signed, which boldly said, "As Is".

     At the dealer they quickly said the work was under warranty and to bring it over to the mechanic who did the work. And as I drove I felt like this could go sideways with me getting caught between two people pointing fingers as who was responsible. But it didn't go that way.

     The dealer had called over and as soon as I pulled in the owner, who spoke no English, was under the hood. I only say that because I couldn't have a conversation with the guy. He just worked and I watched. Luckily it was just a loose fitting, or so we thought. He did his thing and then I drove away. I flipped the guy a $20 for helping me out. 

     Before I got home I pulled into a parking lot and got some shop towels to clean up underneath so any residual fluids wouldn't stain the driveway. And that's when I noticed it leaking from the other side, after my heart started beating again I went back. 

     I couldn't help but thinking that now I had a situation. Another guy came out and went to work without speaking. He would just give me the turn-the-key-on sign. This visit lasted much longer and required more tools. While I was nervous, this guy wasn't. 

     In the end it was a bad O-ring where the transmission line came into the radiator. I left feeling confident and stopped again to clean up underneath. When I got home I put some towels down to catch any wayward drips overnight. I hope that's it for awhile, as I do love this truck. Hopefully she'll still be around long enough to back that skiff, or the Jones, down the ramp where I'll be able to join Brian and his daughters chasing birds and those bull reds one day. 

11.10.26 I love moving water, and the taxman in Jasper County....

       Yesterday I watched as the mailman made his way down the neighborhood stopping at each of the mailboxes that sit curbside in front of our houses. Like clockwork, some of my neighbors came out to see what he delivered, like they do each day. It's part of the daily ritual for some in a 55 and over community. 

     I didn't think much of it until my neighbor retrieved her mail and looked at me and said, "Oh, the tax bills came", and proceeded to open hers up. And then she said, "They went down again this year....". So I joined my neighbors and went to see what was waiting for Theresa and I. Back home we didn't do taxes, well we did, it's just they were part of our monthly mortgage payment. But each year we would receive a notice, usually that they were going up.

     So like someone waiting for a check to come in the mail I hurriedly opened it up. My eyes quickly went to "Total Taxes $3,833.14". I said to myself, "Mmmm", way cheaper than back in New Jersey, but, I know down here, if you don't carry a mortgage, they are due in full in January. So I opened the letter and started to read, much to my surprise, with feelings like I just hit the lottery.

      A quick glance had me do a double take. Is the "Pay this amount" a quarterly figure? I looked over to my neighbor and asked, "Is this for the year?", to which she replied, "Yep, that's why you moved here". So our real estate taxes for the year in South Carolina are $1,385.10, which is far less than we paid each month to live in New Jersey. That comes out to $115.42 a month. Needless to say we'll be paid in full by January 15th, before the taxman recalculates the amount. Last year the taxes on our home here were $1,692.70, so they went down. Where do taxes go down? I feel like we're getting away with a crime. 

     So the naysayers of buying into a 55 and over will point out, "But then you have those HOA's". And they are correct. HOA's can be a big expense and are a big consideration when people home shop, especially when they downsize and move into community living. Some get a good bang for their buck, while others don't get much. 

     We're still trying to figure out things financially, as in what the monthly and yearly costs are and when they are due since everything gets paid separately. So I revisited the HOA's here in Sun City to get a full picture. Our yearly fees are $2,820 which includes just about anything you could want here inside the bubble. We have 8 pools, 3 amenity centers, a Town Center, four restaurants, three golf courses with driving ranges and putting greens, a huge theatre, indoor and 

outdoor tracks, three gyms and a NBA sized indoor basketball court, more pickle ball courts then you can count, a wood shop, over 210 clubs, and 24 hour security. All that costs us $235 a month, and that includes garbage pick up. We chose to buy in one of the newer sections so we pay and additional $867 a year, and that includes landscaping. So we're in for $307. 25 a month, which gets paid quarterly. 

     Theresa, and others, always say, "You put out to much on that stupid blog", but really these figures aren't disclosing the balance in our checking account, it's all public knowledge stuff. Besides, it might be more of a public service announcement to readers of this blog. It can show what life is like on the inside a bubble, and outside of the exorbitant costs they're paying where they currently live. I'm not saying this life is better for anyone else, but it surely puts into perspective the lunacy of us remaining and maintaining that big old house in New Jersey. And what's crazy down here is that we don't pay school taxes, don't ask me how, and I'm not asking anyone anyway. 

     And now to fishing. Below is what I found when I went for a quick outing on the outgoing tide. If I could describe the below scene in one word, besides the water looking boring, is bugs!

     The water was like glass which means there was just about zero wind. And where there's no wind there's bugs, and a lot of them. I thought by the time I was done I needed a blood transfusion. So going forward I'll always have bug spray in my sling pack. 

     I was there a little earlier than I was a day before on the tide. I was up against a job interview via Zoom at 130, which wound up not being a good fit, so I couldn't commit like I'd had done two days ago. But what I was able to do was take a shot and find my path through the higher water and grass to get to the other side. I got wet but it was well worth the effort. 

      By going I was able to see a different look as the water, and a lot of it, emptied from the flat, well entire estuary, behind me that empties into the river. It empties here, and then there, and even in a different spot as the water recedes. I could only imagine predator fish setting up in different spots in the current looking for a meal. And the good thing about getting there with more water is it's clean, before the mud and everything else gets carried out. I fished for a bit but didn't get a bite. 

     I would think, while not maybe an all out blitz, I would see an explosion from time to time where fish are set up. The dolphins set up outside in the deeper water but there was nothing to see, in fact, the reddish egret, above, didn't make a move the entire time I was there. 

     And then in The Fly Barn news. I had to run up to Ridgeland for yet another Facebook Marketplace transaction. This time I was on the money making side. I think the last time I gave it a rough estimate I had moved about $80,000 worth of stuff since 2018. So with all the headaches Marketplace brings it's been good to me. 

     Perched up on a shelf inside the shed was an old gun cabinet. I'm no gun guy, and this wouldn't be repurposed into an anything I could think of and it just took up valuable space. So I listed it, and got about 500 bullshit back and forths before a young guy said, "I want it and I'm coming", and that was it.

     One thing I can say that with all the things I've donated, given away, and sold, the thing that brings me joy, besides some money, is when people truly appreciate what you had, and now they have. An example where it wasn't good was when I sold my entire Lionel train collection to a guy who had no idea what he was buying. That just killed me. But this kid was happy. 

     It was just an old gun cabinet, with the glass in the doors painted over. It still had the original key which is a big thing when it comes to gun security. He said he would be fixing it up and was happy to pay the $50 I was asking for it. Luckily it wasn't as heavy as it looks up there and within minutes he was on his way. 

     When I got back home my phone pinged. It was a message with an attached photo. This kid must have ran home, got out a razor blade and some Windex, and went to work. It looks really good, and he even has his guns on display already. I'm just happy I didn't decide to load into the dumpster at the county dump, which is included in my yearly taxes. That's 7-day a week access to get rid of anything and everything, including daily garbage if you don't want to pay for curbside pickup. 

     I think I can used to this Lowcountry living, but it does take time to physically and mentally find your way trying to figure out a new normal in a new part of the country. We still feel like we're in the Witness Protection Program, but that will hopefully change sooner then later.

11.09.26 Finally caught a few fish...

 

     While I've been focused on the incoming flood tides I switched it up and went with the old reliable outgoing. The idea of finding tailing redfish hasn't happened so I went in search of those areas where the water exits the flats after the high tide, and it paid off. 

     No doubt bait and predator fish move out of the deeper waters to feed but they've been hard to find, and when I have, the window is quick as the water moves in which adds depth and gives the fish an opportunity to spread out. When the water ebbs it moves quickly out of the flats, into the feeder creeks, and out into the bigger water. So, to me, that window is small.

     Above is a picture from an hour or so into the dropping tide. The main river current, top arrow, is moving from left to right, The middle arrow is water leaving a feeder creek hugging an oyster bar on its way out. And the bottom is slower paced water just receding on the dropping tide. 

     Depending on the moon phase the tides can range from 6-1/2 to a 9-1/2 feet on high to a -1 foot on low. And when it moves, it moves quick, so being at the right place at the right time is important. I made some blind casts around the fastest moving water and found a spotted seatrout set up outside. 

      They say when you find one you usually will find a bunch but it was a one and done for me. I did see what I thought was a redfish as it blew out as I inched my way towards the creeks exit. 

     As the time went on and the water really started to drop I decided to take a long walk back to a spot I scouted the other day on the low tide. I never saw any tailing, or even big wakes from patrolling fish, but the birds were up, or sitting on the water, at each place where the feeder creeks emptied. 

     I've learned while on foot you have to have a good plan in place. On a low, or lower tide, you can walk amongst the mud and shells, but then the water isn't there, and if it is it way off color, as the bottom of the barrel is getting dragged out with the tide. On higher water, if the wind isn't shitting things up, is much better, and yesterday it was almost clear. 

      I fished into the water getting pulled out and the below picture gives a good shot at what I'm talking about. If you can, you can see the darker and muddy water below the surface. No doubt there's bait in there, but I just don't know if fish would set up in that.

     So I worked my fly in and around that and found fish #2 of the day. It was a southern flounder that was sitting off an oyster bar that I had my way out onto. These are cousins to the summer

flounder I'm used to back in New Jersey. Down here they're Paralichthys lethostigma, where back home the summer flounder, or fluke are Paralichthys dentatus. I guess winter flounder, or pseudopleuronectus americanus, would be second or third cousins.

      Back home I was used to finding the sand bars and the cuts in between them. Down here, in areas where's there's no sand, there's oyster bars, and not the kind you eat and drink at. I have seen them termed oyster reefs. Free swimming oyster larva attach themselves to both living oysters and dead shells. They can go on to form mounds in the deeper water or along the shore dead shells become tightly packed with the ebb and flood of the water and become a permanent structure.

       From what I have seen the feeder creeks are usually lined with ouster shells on one side, with mud and grass on the other. At times the depth and force from the creeks can extend the tightly packed shells out into larger creeks or the main river. 

      Reading the structure and how the water moves around it is part of fishing, especially when learning new water. While it would be easier to be in a skiff and just running the shore and fishing in, doing it on foot brings additional challenges. There's a small window that you have to open. You have to figure out where and when you can get to a spot depending on the tide and if the fish might be there. I would say fishing the outgoing on this beat would be best two hours after high to two hours before low. 

     Several times I've stood there and contemplated if it's worth getting wet to get through deeper water to get to higher ground, which would open me up to a long stretch of fishy water. And then there's the unknown missteps when you don't fully know a beat. Does it get deeper? Is there a big drop off? And I going to step into pluff mud up to my waist? 

     I'm tempted to repeat what I did yesterday today. I learned some things and would do some things differently. I would spend less time at spot X and more at another. One thing I can take away is that along the shore some creeks are higher than others, and empty out quicker. I watched the birds hit an exiting creek to my left first, then hit one two creeks down, before heading back up to one at a higher elevation. Having scouted those oyster reefs at low tide will enable me to get out there even on higher water knowing that by the time I leave it'll be an easy retreat. 

      And in the bummer category for the day. Last night I saw a post on Facebook. It was from Captain Brian Vaughn of Off the Hook Fishing Charters. He's one of most popular and experienced guides down here in Hilton Head. Well he's looking to add a Captain to his crew. 

     If I was only; younger, in better shape, had a running boat, and knew the fishery down here....I'd be a perfect addition. Charter operations in tourist destinations call for a jack-of-all-trades kind of guide. I've seen the photos from Captain Vaughn and no doubt he's on them, on all of the species around the calendar year. But it's not all fly fishing. Many of the clients are kids and 

families out to catch fish, by any means necessary. So knowledge of the bait and artificial game is a must. But boy does that guy find them good. Redfish, jacks, cobia, sharks, and tarpon. His portfolio of catches, and happy clients, is very impressive. I don't think my catches of yesterday would make paying customers happy. 

     Theresa said, "You should reach out to him", but I explained that's out of my league, which kind of bummed me out. But it what it is. Maybe in a year or two I'll be in a different place, and will jump at the opportunity if it arises again. So today I'll run out and trudge through the mud and shells for a bit before yet another interview, this one more in my wheelhouse. This ones for a mobile mental health crisis position out of Beaufort. That's not going to help me learn the fishery but it will help pay the bills. 

11.07.26 Still thinking about the Fall Run...

     The fall was always a favorite time of mine. Besides the season that leads up to my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, it was the time of the big southernly migration of striped bass as they made their way past New Jersey. When I lived in Monmouth County it was a 24-hour a day obsession. Trying to figure out where the bait and bass were, and putting in a lot of time trying to find them, was a part of my daily life. The passion was still there when I moved to Mercer County, but the distance eliminated the chances to run down and check things out, or jump when I got a call from a friend. 

     But like everything else in the world, even the fall runs have changed, as have the striped bass. Yes, we always had big fish, or so it seemed first, followed by the rest of the biomass, which were "normal" in size and behavior. And then just as winter came, and our fingers would freeze off as we fished, the micros would arrive around the first of the year, and then it would be over until the spring. 

     The striped bass are in, and in a way, and have been for some time. But those slot fish, or 28-31 inches, and in and around that size, just aren't there in the numbers we used to see. And while the bunker still swims around the New York Bight, people in the know the numbers have been decimated by the reduction fleet. As my friend Paul always said, "No bait, no bass". 

     While there are flurries of bass hitting the beach, it has morphed into a boat fishery. Common these days are consistent catches of bass from 40 to 55 inches, which used to be a unicorn, and not the norm. And one of the problems with just big fish around is that that's what people are catching, and then either properly handling and releasing them, or not. It's big fish being caught on big baits, with big hooks, on big boats. The fish are hauled up from the bottom taken on shads or metal, or dragged in after failing to a large multi-treble hooked plug. The hot thing this year are those glide baits, where some are cheap knock-offs, loaded with shitty undersized hooks that make removal more difficult, and swallowing them much more easy. 

     And the snag and droppers are still snagging and dropping. Yes, some are still using illegal snagging treble hooks, some are playing by the rules, others are bending them like cheap hooks. 

     The law calls for using circle hooks when using live baits. Single circle hooks. But after the laws were written guys found a way to skirt the intended purpose. The AMSFC put out the 

above in 2021, soon after the boards decision. In it, we see words like "hooks", and "A circle hook..." which, depending on who's reading it, or looking to skirt the intended purpose, can interpret it to their liking. So now we see snagging set-ups with two, or three, circle hooks. 

      And while a perfect photo, not like the one above, can show proper technique and well being for the fish, so many are left fatigued, damaged, or near death. And then there's the fly rodders, from the "fly or die" crowd to the "Grab the fly rod" part timers. We who fly fish never harm striped bass, and are never part of the F, or catch and release mortality. I'm kidding, we kill them, inadvertently, as well. 

     So then there's the anglers fishing from the beach. I have always enjoyed the hunt, from picking where I'd start a day, how long I'd hang in an area, to where I'd end up. I never had a big group of friends and wasn't part of the fishing cell phone network, so it was always more luck then anything else. Sometimes I would hear they had them in Lavalette the day before, and would go the next day, only to find guys up to their necks on the sand bar casting big plugs out a quarter mile. Yes, they had fish, but not fly rod fish. There's a difference. 

     The new generation of anglers may not know what we used to have, and I only caught the tail of end it. Even during the spring and fall we used to have fish that came, and stayed for a bit, before moving north or south. When the fish were at 8th Avenue, they were there for a day, or days, or even a week, not like today, where blitzes last 45 minutes and they're gone. I blame a lot of that on the changing beach structure, or lack of it, from the constant dredging and beach replenishment, which ruined places that hold bait and bass. It's now a north to south highway along the Jersey Shore, and they just pop in from time to time. 

     So in a time when a fall run lasted the fall, at least on the beach, where you had a shot of finding and catching them for an entire season, it's now just pure luck to have a few good days, or at least one day. The chances of that happening are less these days, with things like where the fish are, what the weather is doing, and where you are and what you're doing. Today guys at work, especially those who work around computers, keep the tabs on the beach cams open, ready to run if they can, if the action starts to build. And sadly, that's not the way it used to be. 

     I enjoyed the hunt, and running around, sometimes it worked, many times it didn't. I have friends, like Leif or Richie, who just stayed put and fished the same waters each morning, knowing that one day the stars would align, and they usually did, at some point. But that takes dedication, no ADHD running through your brain, with a lot of time put in. But the rewards were great, only if someone behind you didn't call a friend, or 100 of them.

     So writing this from the Lowcountry I can only speculate what's going on, and is going to happen, back in New Jersey. Soon those big fish will move on, and the, "There's a ton of fish up north", will only be a hunch, like it alway was. The big questions will be, is there plenty of bait in the back that hasn't come out yet, and will there be any "normal" sized fish to chase them around. 

     A lot of the success of the timing has to do with the weather. We've already had our big nor' easters for the fall and now guys are waiting for the temperatures to drop. And this might be the week. The water is still warm, in the 60's, so things aren't moving yet. Yesterday my son Sean sent me this video of what he woke up to yesterday.

He just moved into his new first place near the Manasquan Inlet and I'm sure the landlords didn't tell them that their street is one of the first to flood out when the weather goes sideways. But events like that don't really come into play with the fall run, other then ruin a nice day out fishing. 

     This week the winds will be, "West is best", bringing the bait into the beach, before it comes out of the north which will drop air and water temps. Maybe that'll be the impetus to get things going. That's not to say there's no fish around outside of the blitzes everyone wants to get in on.

     I got a text from Leif with a perfect fly rod bass he got fishing, to me, some boring looking water. Each fall he and I would come together and have at least one good day fishing alongside each other. If I remember correctly most of those times where we had them good were up on The Hook, where it required a long walk and time committed to those spots.

     The above is some video I shot when we fished together on November 9th, 2023. The best part, besides landing a bunch, was that you could get away from the tightly packed spin crowd, and go and find your own fish, which at times, were at our feet. You can read about that day, HERE.

      I'm sure today the ocean will be chocked full of boats, running through bunker schools, all adding to the shit show we have come to see as normal behavior. There will be the usual pit stops along the beach where there's more guys waiting and watching like Shepards rather than with lines in the water. Soon the cell phones will be blowing up and the guys will begin the chase from Sandy Hook down to Island Bech State Park. And tommorrow's reports will be like, "They had them up north", for like 20 minutes. But whatever they had yesterday, or even 2 hours ago, will be history, as the fish, these days, move with lightning speed down the shore. So, images like below, of a guy just going out, finding his own fish, tossing a fly and catching, will be a thing of the past. 

11.06.26 Hit it at low and high...

     Hit the river at low tide. It was more of a scouting trip than anything else. I must have walked four miles through the grass, mud, and oyster shells. It was good if for nothing else that I was able to scout the structure and get to places I wasn't able to all the times I went for the flood tide. 

     They say that in October and November fishing switches up to a better low than high tide fishery. Redfish, and sea trout, start to go into their winter holds and behaviors. They congregate at the creek mouths and deeper water, although they still venture into the skinny water if the conditions are right. 

     The times that I have gone I'm usually perched on the banks, above, looking for fish cruising the drop offs. I can now see why tailing fish aren't seen as there's a multi-foot difference between where I'm standing and the bowl that sits in front of me. I think redfish tail in the grass and on the flats, but cruise when the water is deeper, rooting for crabs in the mud and pinning shrimp and baitfish against the drop offs. 

     There's a tremendous amount of water that pushes in on a flood tide to fill in those acres of flats that I see as I drive around. Those feeder creeks and lower elevation flats fill in first, and dry up last. On a high tide you could easily wind up over head if you don't know the lay of the land before you step off. 

     These spots have to be highways where forage and predator fish travel. I have to think that on the outgoing tides, at some point, the big fish just sit outside where the creeks meet the main river and just feast on what's getting pulled out. But I rarely ever see birds working or signs that fish have found what they are staged up for. 

     I know one day I'll be in the right place at the right time but in the meantime I still go and learn, which I do every time. One thing I think I've deducted from my time is that redfish don't root amongst the oyster fields and beds, they do that in the mud and grass. And the fiddlers spend their time in the muddy environments as well. I see that as the bottom changes and from shells to mud, always finding an army of crabs in retreat around the soft bottoms, rather than one that is tightly packed and razor sharp.

     And after I was done it was time to hit The Fly Barn. On the way there my truck started to blink and cough. For a bit she's been acting out of sorts, a combination of something electrical and something fuel/EVAP related. But this time it was electrical.

      This is the Sammy, the Suburban, I'm talking about because if it was Scarlet, the Silverado, you would see vomit on the cluster. Seeing that would have made me nauseous. My thinking has been to park the Suburban at The Fly Barn, get her straight, and use the Silverado in the meantime. Rotating them will lessen the usage and mileage on each of them, which hopefully will extend their lives. As of now Samantha is 22 years old and her sister Scarlet is 16. 

      Each of them will have their purpose and today Scarlet had her first visit to the county dump. While we don't have a northeast fall season, there is a fall down here as the temperatures drop. A lot of the leaves fall and the amount of acorns that cover the ground from all of the Southern Live Oak trees is staggering, and at times, could be ankle breaking. 

     Scar comes with a 5 foot 8 inch bed, standard with a crew cab, while extended cab trucks have the 6 foot 5 inch beds. To me the first looks tiny, the later normal, and a long bed way too long. But better to have her rather then filling up the back of the Suburban. 

     On my way home I stopped back in to see if there was anything going on with the tide change. The wind had changed through the day from the southeast, then just east, before going just south after I left. Winds from the south bring the warmer temperatures and humidity with it. It'll stay south before it comes out of the north starting Saturday, which will drop air and water temps. I'm sure the striper fishermen in New Jersey are welcoming the change. 

     They say if you find the bait you'll find the fish. Well I found the bait, those fiddler crabs, but most of them were skating around the advancing water and then retreating as I walked along the edge. They are a hoot to watch, almost like watching pedestrian traffic in a large city from the vantage point of a high rise building. 

     I didn't last that long in the afternoon but it's always worth my while. I have to say my right Achilles is still killing me and whatever I did alters the way I walk. It's almost like I have foot drop. It's Friday, two days away from basketball with the boys on Sunday. I don't know if I'm going to make it this week. That's what happens when you try to do 25-year old things in a 58-year old body.