Still I go back time and time again to this devils den dressed as a petting zoo. Knowing that a fellow named Isaac is going to spoil any fishing plans for the next few days last evening I headed out again. Started out like it often does. Serene, inviting, but I know better. I know the demons that lay just under the water would soon have me mumbling jabberwocky to myself.
The fish were not running the mud, instead just sulking on the warm bottom. I know this from the grunt and puff of mud as my kayak would get too close. Finally there it was. A telltale disturbance up against the bank that was surely a redfish. The stalk begins. Slowly, as not to disturb the target. Finally, I'm within range but wait. Something just ain't right. Sure enough, a decoy!
After a bit another target, thus time it's for real. Wind had calmed ,line was clear and my fly landed softly 18 inches in front of a happy redfish. A pause, a short strip. A pause, a strip, repeat. A strike! But I still see the redfish? Must have been another there I didn't see. After a short fight something didn't smell right. It smelled, just not right.
On to greener pastures and yet another redfish showed itself. A cast, a strip. A TAKE! This time there was little doubt I had finally outsmarted the gargoyles guarding these parts. After a sporting tussle, I had the fish in my mitt. No, not a giant but whether twenty four or thirty four, it is no matter. That evening I can claim victory over the demonic forces providing aegis over MISHAP COVE!
To celebrate my triumph the wind was at my back for a gleeful paddle home.
