Winter Get Away
by Tom Hayes
A
few years ago, our son graduated from SD Tech and went to work for a company
that thought he would look good traveling the streets of Austin, Texas.
It makes a nice break for my wife and I to plan a trip to see him sometime
after the Holidays. Of course, it is always good to see the kid and get
to be a part of his world for a few days meeting his friends and eating
Hill Country Bar-B-Q. It doesn’t hurt anything, either, that even
if the “winter” is well in progress down there, it is still
a huge improvement over whatever it is doing at “home” in the
Northland.
The kid apologized profusely for the rotten weather last year. It was 60 (that’s ABOVE zero), windy and spitting rain a lot of the time. There were a couple of days that did come out sunny and 70, at least for a few hours. It was fun to sit there and listed to the Texans complaining about the weather, then go to the Weather Channel and see what was going on up here.
On one of the first trips down there, I noticed that not too far from Austin is an ocean. Well, technically, I guess it is just the Gulf of Mexico, but to a kid who grew up looking at Oahe and Pactola and thinking they are “big,” it IS an ocean. One of my best of all time hunting, fishing, and surviving-in-the-world pals, (“Tire Tool” for the loyal readership of The Outdoorsmen) grew up down on the Gulf Coast in a town called Bay City, Texas.
Me, being the especially bright fellow that I am, eventually connected the dots and asked the Tool what a Yankee Landlubber such as myself might do were I to go on from Austin down to the Ocean. “The Gulf,” he corrected.
“Well, the beaches are public and you can drive up and down them. You can do some bird watching – Matagorda is a haven for bird watching. Or you can fish in the surf.”
He knows that while I like the birds who come to my back yard feeders and the blue birds who use the houses we built a few years ago, my favorite of all kind of “bird watching” is looking at them over the barrel of a good shotgun. This surf fishing thing sounded interesting, though. I quizzed him more about it and actually, it is nothing more that what the folks out in West River used to do all the time up at Orman Dam, by Belle Fourche, for catfish in the summer.
You take a good stout long (aka “surf”) rod (discount and sporting goods stores all carry them for very reasonable prices along the Gulf Coast), put some leader with a 2 oz sinker and some stainless steel hooks on it, and drive out to the beach and go to fishing. You can buy “bait shrimp” almost everywhere in shops near the roads that go near the water. Actually, sometimes I buy “table shrimp” and use a few for bait while I get a Coleman single burner stove boiling a kettle and cook up a few to munch on while I am fishing.
Now, this is not necessarily a thrill a minute deal. Moreover, I learned that the entire line of beach is not, apparently, equally good fishing. A drive along the beach at Matagorda or from Port Aransas to Corpus Christie teaches one that there are places where several people congregate to fish and literally miles of beach where nobody seems to bother. I look for two or three trucks (this is a 4 wheel drive only deal because the sand can become wicked when you pull of the beaten track to park to fish) parked within a block of one another where it is obvious they are fishing and not just lounging on the beach.
Sooner or later, something will swim by and decide to eat your shrimp. It can be anything and it will be like nothing you ever caught in the northern Plains. That’s the other reason to set up near some locals. There are some of those things that can hurt you. Topsail Catfish, for example, are supposed to have a pretty toxic kick to ‘em if they poke you with their horns. I suppose most of what you catch could be eaten, but as with our waters up here, not everything is considered “edible” by the locals. It pays to be humble and ask questions.
You can make a rod holder by taking a length of PVC tubing large enough to accommodate the fishing rod handle, screw it onto a 4 foot length of dowel rod, then drive the dowel in the sand and stick your rod handle in the PVC tube and wind up the slack until you have a little tension on the rig. When the rod goes to flicking, set the hook and wind in whatever it is that’s eating your shrimp.
A variation on this is to haul your fishing tackle out on one of the many fishing piers, both private and public, that jut out into the bays along the Gulf. Many of the locals have little wagons that remind us northerners of ice fishing sleds. They haul lawn chairs, coolers, bait buckets, collapsible tables, umbrellas, and what have you out onto the piers and spend day fishing just as we would off a dock.
I found this pastime to be completely compatible with “bird watching” and getting away from the winter on the northern plains. However, I have a hard time being still for a long time and a day or so of uninterrupted tranquility is about all I can stand. I mentioned this to the Tire Tool before our last trip down to Texas and he said, “Why don’t you go red fishing?”
It turns out that one of Tire Tools friends from his growing up days is a charter boat captain and red fish guide in Matagorda Texas. So, a month or so before my wife and I went south, I called up “Redfish Raymond” and arranged a day of fishing with him for my wife, son and me.
We arrived at Raymond’s place about 7 am and loaded up for our trip out into Matagorda Bay for the day. One look at Raymond and you can tell either he has spent his life doing this, or has one heck of a talented make-up artist. All you have to bring is your own sack lunch and beverages of choice and Raymond does the rest. He is spending about as many days out on charters anymore taking Birders around as he does fishermen and he is very knowledgeable about the birds in the area. With just a little encouragement, he will share a lot of information about the birds and the ecology of his piece of heaven and throw in some great stories about the people he has guided over the last 50 years.
We rode in Raymond’s boat out to try various places around the Bay. We caught some feisty fish called Black Drum that weighed around three to four pounds and they fought about like Largemouth Bass twice that size. Since we were after Reds, Raymond only allowed about so much of that fun to be had before we fired up and moved on. I think Raymond probably stopped to let us catch some Drum just so we would be more patient with him while he tried to find the Reds. As Raymond told me when I booked the trip, “ You ain’t payin’ me to go on no boat ride. We are goin’ FISHin’ so come to stay all day.”
Shortly after stopping the next time, Raymond pointed out swirls in the shallow brown bay waters and said, “That’s redfish feeding.” He rigged us up with shrimp on one rod and cut mullet on another and had us cast toward the muddy brown swirls. My son and I cast out our rods and Raymond cast the rod out for my wife, her not being an expert with bait casting equipment. In no time at all, I hooked a fish that I thought had to weigh 15 pounds and fought a lot like a Northern pike. After a couple of minutes, I finally got it to the boat and it was a “barely legal” twenty-three inch Red. It might have weighted 4 to 5 pounds. I was totally amazed at what a fight it put up. It fought like a fish 4 or 5 times its size.
My wife caught the next fish and the next one AND the NEXT one. Every time she landed a fish Raymond would say, “OK, everybody in the boat who has caught TWO (then THREE) Reds, raise their hands.”
Our son was starting to grow a little impatient, as he had not yet caught a fish. Sure as heck, my wife hooked another one and landed it. Then, Raymond baited her up and cast her out again and by damn, while he was measuring her last fish, she hooked ANOTHER one. I looked at my son, he looked at me, we both looked at Mom, who was beaming ear to ear. Raymond, God love him, said, “OK, everybody who has landed FIVE Reds, raise your hand!” I raised my hand all right, with my right middle finger fully extended from an otherwise closed fist.
Raymond let out a roaring laugh…He said; “ I have a lesson for you two guys. The reds are spooky and they will only come toward the boat cautiously. Whichever bait is farthest from the boat is the one that will catch the fish. I have been throwing Kathy’s bait a good 10 to 15 yards farther from the boat than you two Rookies are casting.”
He laughed and laughed and laughed. My wife laughed and laughed and laughed. My son and I turned red.
Raymond reached over, opened a pop for my wife, and put her rod in the rod rack. Then he took my son’s rod, freshened the bait, and launched a monster cast way out into the muddy brown waters. He laughed again, and then did the same with my rod and by the time he handed it to me, my son got his first Red of the day. Then I got another, then son got one and so forth.
We kept a few eaters, released a bunch, and called it a day in the late afternoon. The ride back to Raymond’s landing was long enough with him and my wife going on and on about the Great Red Fishing. It would have been a LOT LONGER boat ride, if my son and I had not gotten humble enough to let the “old Red Fish Guide” cast our lines for us.
On subsequent trips, I have improved my casting and do actually catch some fish. I also broke down and bought a rod that suits me and I leave it with Redfish Raymond so it is handy whenever my son or I scrape up the cash for a Day with Ray.
Note: Anyone wishing to try a red fishing trip with Raymond can contact
him: matagordacharterboats.com or write to Raymond Cox, P.O. Box 714,
Matagorda TX, 77457, or phone 979-863-7434
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