I
had a somewhat unusual fishing experience yesterday. After working all morning and running some
errands while Chris watered flowers (I
picked up a prescription and bought a pair of cheap tennis shoes. My other fishing shoes completely
collapsed. I’ve never had a brand new
pair of shoes strictly to go fishing in.
Well worth the $14.95 at WalMart), I gathered up my gear, bought some
bait and waded into the Gulf out in front of WalMart. Wow, is it just me or does that sound really
Mayberry, small-town-ish of me?
Conditions
were not exactly perfect. The water was
amazingly clear. The waves weren’t too
bad, but if asked, I’d have to describe it as choppy. Not many whitecaps, but swells crashing
against you from several directions at once.
I decided to try out the second sand bar this time. The tide was out a bit, so I didn’t have to
swim. I am ultra-cautious heading out that
far, though. My one encounter with a
shark occurred out there, so I like to have means for easy escape. I watched another guy about my size wade out
there first, so I knew I could make it and stay under control. Now all that to say … I didn’t catch anything
out there at all. Had some bait stolen
by ladyfish, but no real strikes of any kind.
So I waded back to my usual spot and started over again.
And
then the fun began. First up was a
little bitty whiting. I put him in the
fish well to be used for bait later on. Next
came one a little bigger, and then one a pretty good size. The day was looking up. And then the ladyfish moved in. Never a good sign. They are to the top of the water what catfish
are to the bottom. Scavengers. They grab the bait and take off like their
cousins the tarpons. They leap into the
air, writhing and twisting, just like you see the big ones do on TV. I guess it’s fun to watch, but they are not
something I would eat, so it’s back into the water for them. One cast did make its way into the mouth of a
good sized speckled trout. He didn’t do
the antics of the ladyfish, but he put up a good fight, nonetheless. And then came the big one. Took the bait and took off, spinning the drag
like it was nothing. I let him go for a while,
but I don’t have all that much line on my reel, so I had to turn him around. It took a good ten or fifteen minutes to wear
him down, but I finally saw his tail and the distinctive red spot. He was a big one. I finally got him landed and into the fish
well. That’s a good day. Big red.
Good speck. A few whiting. But I still had some bait left, so I kept on
casting. And before I hit the beach to
return home I had caught and released no less than ten more reds. They were all undersized, but I guess I was
the guest speaker at school that day on how to find food (or how Not to).
As
I dragged my catch onto shore, a couple ran up to me and asked if they could
see what I had. Of course I
obliged. He was fascinated by the big
red. In fact he proceeded to regale my
with a play by play description of the catch.
He had been watching carefully the whole time, cheering me on,
apparently. From what he said, he
actually whooped out loud when I held it up to transfer it to the fish well. And the only reason they were still on the
beach was so they could see it up close.
Great to have fans. They were
from Oklahoma. I told them about
Seaside, and they want to come to the fisherman-pastor’s church next time they
are in town. Come on.
2
Corinthians 1:20 says, “For no matter how
many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so through him the ‘Amen’
is spoken by us to the glory of God.”
Father,
thank you for the fish and for the Oklahoma fans. Keep them safe on their journey back
home. Amen.
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