A Great Day Surf Fishing in the Gulf!
Feb 3, 2020 17:57:33 #
It was early in the AM when he awakened to the sound of crashing surf inside his beach cabin on South Padre Island. This was the beginning of the lunar cycle he had been waiting to intercept the run of Bull Red Fish that regularly migrated up the coast. He was anxious to get out and meet them with the high tide just right and a light South East wind adding to the incoming tide.
He jumped into his clothes, not taking time to eat breakfast or even have his ritual cup of joe because he was anxious to get down the beach to a particular spot he had mentally staked out as just the right place to set his ambush. These reds would be anywhere from 15 to 30 Lbs., or more and would put up a fight like nothing else he had ever fished for , or even wanted to. It was the very top of his wish list.
He was about 200 yards down the beach before he realizes he had forgotten to put on his fish wading belt, the one with his stringer and filet knife. He gave it only a minute or two, and decided that it wasn't worth going back and wasting that time, he wasn't going to clean any fish so he didn't need either stringer or kife. He was more anxious in scanning the boiling surf ahead, looking for any flotsam that might have washed ashore. There was the usual trash from off shore platforms and he would try to remember to pick that up for proper disposal on his return. He was more interested in any fishing line, monofilament, that he might find, since there was often a trolling lure attached. Some were not worth much, but some were and he had made a practice of selling them at a local bait shop.
Up ahead, floating in the foam was what looked like a coil of mono, and he hastened his pace to get to it. Upon closer examination, he not only had found a large number coils of heavy mono, perhaps 80 lb test, but sitting on top was a zip lock bag with what looked like a sandwich. This was not only a surprise but it also triggered his stomach to tell him he was hungry. He dropped his rod, picked up the coil of mono with both hands and then carefully pinched the zip lock bag. Sure enough, it was a sandwich and it felt very fresh. He carefully opened a corner of the bag and felt the bread, which had obviously been made that very morning. It must have been accidently dropped overboard of a party boat headed out to fish for red snapper.
He doesn't hesitate, but takes a small bite, and finds it quite tasty. He holds the coils of mono in one hand as he eats this surprisingly good gift. Suddenly, without any warning, he feels a sharp pain in his lower jaw! He drops the mono, and with both hands tries to feel for certain what has happened. It seems that he discovered a heavy duty circle hook firmly embedded into his lower jaw, and the mono line is slowly being pulled tighter and tighter, even though he had dropped it earlier. His mind flashes back as to why he had been so careless in leaving his knife at home. But the line is pulling and the waves are knocking him about to the point he is stumbling, trying to bite the line apart, but all the time falling against the force of each incoming wave.
Finally, he is forced to dog paddle to keep his head above water, gasping for breath, he cannot seem to get either a firm footing to resist the line's pull because the waves keep knocking him down and off balance. He now finds himself in even deeper water and can only get his head up to get a breath in between the incoming waves. Finally, he goes under for the last time. There are only a few bubbles to indicate his last breath. His surf rod and reel are the only evidence of where he had been and his hat floated on down the beach for another short distance. It was a truly Great Day Surf fishing in the Gulf! RJS
He jumped into his clothes, not taking time to eat breakfast or even have his ritual cup of joe because he was anxious to get down the beach to a particular spot he had mentally staked out as just the right place to set his ambush. These reds would be anywhere from 15 to 30 Lbs., or more and would put up a fight like nothing else he had ever fished for , or even wanted to. It was the very top of his wish list.
He was about 200 yards down the beach before he realizes he had forgotten to put on his fish wading belt, the one with his stringer and filet knife. He gave it only a minute or two, and decided that it wasn't worth going back and wasting that time, he wasn't going to clean any fish so he didn't need either stringer or kife. He was more anxious in scanning the boiling surf ahead, looking for any flotsam that might have washed ashore. There was the usual trash from off shore platforms and he would try to remember to pick that up for proper disposal on his return. He was more interested in any fishing line, monofilament, that he might find, since there was often a trolling lure attached. Some were not worth much, but some were and he had made a practice of selling them at a local bait shop.
Up ahead, floating in the foam was what looked like a coil of mono, and he hastened his pace to get to it. Upon closer examination, he not only had found a large number coils of heavy mono, perhaps 80 lb test, but sitting on top was a zip lock bag with what looked like a sandwich. This was not only a surprise but it also triggered his stomach to tell him he was hungry. He dropped his rod, picked up the coil of mono with both hands and then carefully pinched the zip lock bag. Sure enough, it was a sandwich and it felt very fresh. He carefully opened a corner of the bag and felt the bread, which had obviously been made that very morning. It must have been accidently dropped overboard of a party boat headed out to fish for red snapper.
He doesn't hesitate, but takes a small bite, and finds it quite tasty. He holds the coils of mono in one hand as he eats this surprisingly good gift. Suddenly, without any warning, he feels a sharp pain in his lower jaw! He drops the mono, and with both hands tries to feel for certain what has happened. It seems that he discovered a heavy duty circle hook firmly embedded into his lower jaw, and the mono line is slowly being pulled tighter and tighter, even though he had dropped it earlier. His mind flashes back as to why he had been so careless in leaving his knife at home. But the line is pulling and the waves are knocking him about to the point he is stumbling, trying to bite the line apart, but all the time falling against the force of each incoming wave.
Finally, he is forced to dog paddle to keep his head above water, gasping for breath, he cannot seem to get either a firm footing to resist the line's pull because the waves keep knocking him down and off balance. He now finds himself in even deeper water and can only get his head up to get a breath in between the incoming waves. Finally, he goes under for the last time. There are only a few bubbles to indicate his last breath. His surf rod and reel are the only evidence of where he had been and his hat floated on down the beach for another short distance. It was a truly Great Day Surf fishing in the Gulf! RJS
Feb 3, 2020 18:06:09 #
Who told his relatives about what happened? Did the rod and real have a GoPro attached? Is it an advertisement for subway to buy instead of eating food you find
Feb 3, 2020 19:15:48 #
Hoss: I've just been pulling your leg. I am a storyteller and a fisherman! Did you feel the hook before I told you? I am also on the BOD of Tejas Storytelling Association. Everyone has a story, and there is probably a group in your area. How about searching them out an regaling them with some of your yarns?
I have written about 150 personal stories in MY STORIES, published by LULU Publishing, by me. I recommend everyone get their stories recorded. When you die, they die, and your grandchildren will feel deprived, as I did. RJS
I have written about 150 personal stories in MY STORIES, published by LULU Publishing, by me. I recommend everyone get their stories recorded. When you die, they die, and your grandchildren will feel deprived, as I did. RJS
Feb 4, 2020 07:33:09 #
Raw Dawg Ron
Loc: St. Petersburg, FL
Great story teller with got your attention to the end! Say What?
Feb 4, 2020 09:15:16 #
Feb 4, 2020 09:32:18 #
Hey I thought of something.... R J S ... also stands for “Really.... Just .... Saying”
Feb 4, 2020 11:39:09 #
Jeremy: You caught me red handed! I couldn't think of a good handle, so just used my birth name!
During the CB craze, I was on the road a lot and really enjoyed both listening to and talking to "good buddies" along the road. I finally settled on "Buffalo Chip" as my handle because I wanted something that could easily be understood over the airways. You remember those days? RJS
During the CB craze, I was on the road a lot and really enjoyed both listening to and talking to "good buddies" along the road. I finally settled on "Buffalo Chip" as my handle because I wanted something that could easily be understood over the airways. You remember those days? RJS
Feb 4, 2020 13:10:46 #
For sure. I was THE CRAZE. After moved to Oregon.. THE OREGONIAN. Absolutely I remember. I have talked all over the world when conditions were right. I have CBs in all my rigs and on my Quad too. Boats. Now I have FRS too . I have funnies in Big Base at Home . I have Ranch Radio too. I don’t really stand by much ever anymore but I still have them. The Base at home in a Caveman Cab Over Camper is always ON but I don’t listen. I keep it ON to keep it warm and dry. I have 2 President Washington Radios. I have all sorts of other ones too. I am Electronic Technician so I have Solder Bench at work. Galaxy Radios are the easiest to modify. Cbtricks.com is cool place for radio heads
Feb 5, 2020 23:06:34 #
Feb 6, 2020 04:12:56 #
FishinPhil: You are probably right. It is almost solid proof our hero wasn't a native Texan. No native would have gone anywhere without at least a pocket knife!
However, here is a true story. One of my fishing buddy's was a dedicated wade fisherman and loved to fish both in the various bays, but also the Gulf of Mexico. Early one morning, he was fishing in the Gulf and had just begun. He had stated casting a top water plug when he was knee deep and was fishing out toward the second gut, one of the numerous trenches that run parallel to the shore, from wave action. He had expected not to encounter anything until he reached the under water sand bar between the two. The water he was in was about knee deep. He suddenly got a terrific strike and when it jumped, he knew he had hooked his personal best spotted trout! He fought it in until it was maybe 5 or 6 feet away. Then suggenly, a large shark grabs his trout and bites it completely in to, right behind its head! He reels in just the head of a 7 or 8 lb trout! It shook him up so much he turned around and went home. Just sayhin...RJS
However, here is a true story. One of my fishing buddy's was a dedicated wade fisherman and loved to fish both in the various bays, but also the Gulf of Mexico. Early one morning, he was fishing in the Gulf and had just begun. He had stated casting a top water plug when he was knee deep and was fishing out toward the second gut, one of the numerous trenches that run parallel to the shore, from wave action. He had expected not to encounter anything until he reached the under water sand bar between the two. The water he was in was about knee deep. He suddenly got a terrific strike and when it jumped, he knew he had hooked his personal best spotted trout! He fought it in until it was maybe 5 or 6 feet away. Then suggenly, a large shark grabs his trout and bites it completely in to, right behind its head! He reels in just the head of a 7 or 8 lb trout! It shook him up so much he turned around and went home. Just sayhin...RJS
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