The next morning we were out the door fairly early, granola bars washed down with water and gatorade. There was no need to be out before the sun had risen high enough to warm the water and provide light for spotting cruising marsh pumpkins.
Layered against the windchill, we headed back to the general spot that we had left the previous evening. We figured it might be holding fish waiting for the sun.
After the cold of the boatride it was great to stand on the bow again, soaking up some sun and enjoying the excellent visibility. The area that we had fished the evening before was barren of fish except for one lone straggler that we blew out. Rounding a point, we headed up a shallow shoreline after crossing a deeper gut. Jeremy heard the characteristic sound of redfish crashing bait and poled us down the shoreline towards the commotion. We didn't get far before we started running into fish.
First there was one, then there were five, then too many to count. Most of them weren't very big - 20-26" inch fish. Jeremy scoffed at these reds; they were babies, he said. He told me to wait until I saw the truly big ones and I would understand why he said that. Talk about foreshadowing.
There for a little while we literally caught redfish at will, casting at the biggest fish in the numerous small pods that swam past us. Jeremy picked a good one out while I battled another, smaller specimen.
Jeremy was participating in a tagging survey so we took the opportunity to tag some of the smaller fish that would be more likely to recaptured by other anglers later. This chunky 33" fish was the largest fish we tagged.
One of the interesting things about my trip was the scars and other beauty marks that some of the fish had going on.
After catching 8 to 10 of the 'smaller' reds, it was time. We pushed off the shallow water to go find a little deeper edge that might hold larger fish. Midmorning in December, Louisiana - time find those giants.