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I had an incredible day on the water last weekend.  I touched seven reds and only two made the slot – the rest were over.  It was really one of the better days I’ve ever had for quality redfish.  The problem is, it could have been even better.  It became an unforgettable day when I let the big one get away.

It started off with a nice, long paddle down a boring canal, then into some big water, and finally taking a cut into some classic southern Louisiana marsh.  Conditions were pretty good for sight fishing with calm winds and low tide, but spotting fish was a little tough early on due to the cloud cover and poor water clarity.  Patience paid off though, and soon enough the redfish were giving themselves away.

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The day was progressing nicely, I had caught a handful of redfish ranging from 26-33″ and was starting to lazily make my way back to the launch, not quite ready to call it a day and fishing along the way.  As I was paddling a large, featureless canal heading back to the truck I see the distinctive wave of a giant redfish tail from a distance away.  Low tide in the canal had turned the bank into a nice sand flat and I just so happened to be in the right place at the right time as this beast of a fish was slowly cruising my way.

I was in a great spot to catch this fish.  My momentum was carrying me toward the bank as he was swimming toward me, still a distance away.  I was able to get set up and quickly strip off some free line.  I had time to make a few false casts to assure that I was on target with my cast and sure enough my aim was true.  I led him by a good amount and when he saw the fly he inhaled it.  A few solid strip sets later and the fight was on.  This was a huge fish, definitely bigger than anything else I had caught today and maybe bigger than anything I had caught this year (42″ being the largest).  I fought him the same way I fought every other bull redfish I’ve caught this year and I think that is what ultimately led me to lose this fish.  I don’t baby these fish, I don’t let them run, I typically crank down my drag and win the fight in 10-15 minutes.  I can usually do this because I fish a short, stout leader that can take the abuse.  But I underestimated the power of this redfish in particular and 15 minutes into the fight, when I thought I may have had him whipped, he made one strong head shake and my line went limp.

He broke me off and left me speechless.  It doesn’t happen often, but when it does it is always heartbreaking.  What could have potentially been the biggest redfish I’ve ever caught on the fly and I farmed him.

The only thing I could do was re-tie and keep fishing.  Fortunately I was able to seek a little bit of redemption in another 32″ fish, who did his best to give me the slip.

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Overall it was a crazy good day, but it’s going to be really tough to forget about what could have been when I let that big one get away.

I was able to get out and fish for the fourth weekend in a row, which is surely some sort of a record for toddler dads.  I can’t thank my wife enough for that.  Sunday’s forecast was too good to pass up so I headed to the coast for more bull red action.  What has been nice about each one of these trips is that I’ve been able to explore new areas, fish new water, and still find some success at each new spot.

There was frost on the truck and the yak as I left the driveway early yesterday morning, temps had made it in to the 40s though by the time I arrived at the launch.  It was chilly to start, but with a nearly three mile paddle ahead of me to get to where I wanted to fish, it never really felt that cold.  I was appropriately dressed and was taking off layers before I even got in the kayak.

On my paddle I couldn’t help but notice that the marsh in January, despite the cold, is so full of life.  Nutria, otter, dolphin, and countless numbers of birds had their morning activities interrupted as I glided through their habitat.

The tide was very low and the water was much dirtier than it was last weekend, but winds were light and it was a bluebird sky, so conditions would be favorable for some sightfishing, I just needed the sun to get up and warm up the flats.  Surprisingly, it did not take long for me to see some activity.

I was in a canal making my way toward a large bay when I noticed a lot of nervous baitfish near the opening of a marsh drain.  There was a big red chasing bait in some super skinny water along the bank of the canal.  I had a rod in front of me still rigged from last week’s Minimalist Challenge and was able to flip a Vortex shad in front of the red and he inhaled it.  This was a fairly narrow canal an without much of an area to run the fight was actually much shorter than you’d imagine, maybe just 5-10 minutes.

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This red measured just over 42″ and I was back in the 40s for the first time in a long time.  This red had to be fresh from the Gulf as it was covered in sea lice.

I put the spinning rod down for the rest of the day and picked up the fly rod.  The next few hours were pretty quiet.  Not many fish spotted and quite a few rejections from those I did see and was able to lay a cast in front of.  Conditions were at their best about mid-day and things started to pick up.  I made it to a point in a bay that was surrounded by shallow flats.  The flats were loaded with skittish redfish.  I caught a few fish, but had dozens of refusals, it was a very humbling experience to say the least.

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I began the long paddle back to the launch and was a little bummed that I didn’t tie into any bigger bulls with the fly rod while conditions were at their best (Biggest I had caught on the fly so far was 31.75″).  I had a few chances, but just couldn’t connect.  As I made it back into the same canal I caught the big red to start the day, a chance at redemption floated to the surface.  After a good cast and a slow twitch, the line came tight and I had caught another bull.

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This fish was a fat 35.5″, which is the same length as the big red I had caught on my trip with Hays. I think this fish was probably heavier though, he had a full belly.

It was a great way to end the day and really made that three mile paddle back to the launch much easier.

That just may be my favorite music video.

I fished a tournament this past weekend, Bayou Coast’s Minimalist Challenge.  It’s got a unique format as they provide you with the tackle you’ll use for the day. Five soft plastics, five jigheads and a topwater is what was provided. The goal is to catch and weigh as many legal trout, redfish and flounder as you possibly can.

This has never been my favorite tournament, not because of the provided tackle part, I actually like that – it simplifies things.  Rather, I hate that I may actually have to keep forty fish, which will likely never happen, but I hate the idea – that would be some day though right!

We had a shotgun launch at 6:00am from Leeville and 125 kayak anglers spread out across the adjacent marsh.  I knew early on I wanted to put some distance between myself and the launch because frankly I don’t like fishing with a crowd.

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I made my first stop on the backside of an island where a trenasse emptied into a larger bayou.  Clear, moving water was being swept around both sides of the island and my first cast toward the island was inhaled by a junior bull of about 32″.  It took a while for me to figure that out though because he shook his head like a big trout and nearly gave me a heart attack.

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After a good fight and a few quick pics I sent him on his way (can only keep slot reds for BCKFC tourneys).  A few more casts and I soon began catching trout.  In short time I had six in the boat, from 14-16″, and then I found out I hadn’t put enough distance between myself and the launch.  Some dude had the nerve to paddle right through the spot I was catching fish even after I told him to come around behind me.  I was displeased so I pushed further.  As I got further I decided to sabotage my tournament plans and target bull reds.  The weather was too nice not to.  Winds were light, water was clear, the tide was right, and we’d have plenty of chances for bright sun.

I paddle-poled my way through a lot of good looking water looking for redfish sign, but really wasn’t seeing much of anything.  Finally as I was working the flat of a long, wide bayou I started to see some activity.  At the mouth of a smaller trenasse I caught one that went about 33″.

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Then later I spotted a pair of bulls cruising the shore and was able to pick off the closer one with a good cast.  He went about 35″.

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Each of these fish I tagged and sent on their way.  They weren’t tournament fish, but I didn’t really care.  When conditions allow for sightfishing bull reds, that’s what I want to be doing, so that’s what I did.  I hooked up with another fish after I rounded the corner into a cut and saw him cruising down the shoreline toward me.  I didn’t get him to the boat though as he eventually spit the hook.  He was another junior bull, not a monster like I was hoping.

I finally decided enough had been enough and I may as well weigh what I had, so I made my way back toward the weigh-in, figuring I might be able to run into some slot fish along the way.

I did run into slot fish, that were way up in the skinny water ponds, but they were the spookiest fish I’ve ever encountered, I couldn’t get them to bite to save my life.  It is a strange day when sightfishing bull reds is easier than catching slot fish.

I picked up a few more trout under the Leeville bridge along the way, but really I had already conceded the tournament.  It was a sabotage and a successful one at that and I would do it again if given the opportunity – it was a lot of fun.