I should have taken the advice. I made a solo trip to Charlie's Bait Camp this past weekend. I made it to launch earlier than normal in the hopes to make it one of the cuts near Dewberry. My plan was search for trout. I made most of my preparation focus on that arrangement. It was one of those things which I lost the forest because of the tree. My mind was set, so let's allow this post to be a learning opportunity for keeping an open mind on the water.
I was at launch early enough to miss the crowd. As I approached the Lagoon, I knew what to expect. It was going to be shallow and grassy. I knew it was going to be a trek to get to the Lagoon side of Dewberry. It is not a long paddle, but the shallow water and grass make for an ineffective paddle. As I entered the Lagoon, mullet welcomed me. It was dark but the light from the headlamp showed their presence.
Just as twilight started to expose the water and shadows, I had made it to about half my journey to Dewberry. That is about when I saw some tails moving just nearby in front of me. I was not prepared, I had made my mind earlier to do something and not even tails were going to change my mind at that point. As I continued along the shoreline, mullet scattered and a few times I would feel the kayak vibrate and noise of thuds that I knew were reds being spooked as they left behind dark mud boils.
At this point, my mind shifted a bit. I thought, "I will fish for reds on the way to the cut." I could see more tails, see and hear reds crashing bait on the shoreline, and see the distinct V wake that reds make when they are spooked. I was using a Slayer Chicken Off the Chain rigged weedless. The presence of grass made this a wise choice. The grass was not as thick as last week, but it was still present. I cast into a cove along the shoreline and hooked into a mid slot red at 6:40 a.m. This is the earliest hook up I have had given I don't normally get to my spots til about 7 a.m. I thought, "Not bad given I am on my way to find trout."
And still, I headed on to the Dewberry cut. When I finally arrived to the cut, it was very windy. The water was mucked up. I probably spent 45 minutes wading about without a boat to be seen on a shoreline that is normally filled with waders. Without a bite, I grabbed a snack and figured I would now go for reds on my way back.
Guess what? The reds were gone. In the early morning on the way to that cut, it was as if the Fishing gods opened the floodgates and gave me every sign to make this a redfish morning. Signs upon signs. A letter from Zeus himself could have dropped from the clouds telling me to work for the reds but I would not have noticed.
My lesson was learned. Fish the fish dealt to you.
I fired up the pit Sunday. I filled the pit with sausage, steak, and a lone redfish knowing it should have been filled with reds alone.
