| Fishing Journal |
| 10-05 to current(8-1-06) Boat Project - Last fall I bought an 18-foot Wellcraft Center Console Project Boat. I've been wanting a boat of my own for years now, and considering we were expecting our third child, which we just had, a boy, Luke Thomas Christian, doing great, I knew I couldn't just drive down to Chatlee and sign up for a new one. I've always enjoying designing, customizing,restoring, and creating things myself, so I wasn't afraid to take on a diamond in the rough. The project hasn't made much progress lately, but I hope to have it in the water by October. I'll post more on it soon. 5-06 - Seeking Hybrids/Stripers on the Haw Again- Caught several largemouth bass instead 10-05 Wildman trip to Cape Hatteras - I, my brother-in-law, James Wilkins, cousin Ken Harris, and James' Dad, Larry Wilkins, headed down to the coast one dark Saturday morn this past fall. Our intention was to get on the beach somewhere around Cape Hatteras and fish. The other details would work out when we got to them. We got down there with no delays despite my rear parking lights being out the whole way down in the dark. Once we were there I didn't plan to do any driving at night and we planned to head back Sunday during the day. We baited up at Frank and Fran's and tooled on down well south of the lighthouse. It was a pretty crowded beach, to me at least, since I'm more used to the isolated beaches of Cape Lookout. We worked our way almost to the ferry to Ocracoke and fished for an hour or so. We felt the water was too clear and calm and we weren't catching anything so we worked our way back toward Buxton. Once we kind of turned the bend in the banks to where we were just above the point we found a spot to fit our two trucks that faced what appeared to be a nicely forming slough as the tide changed. We fished that spot consistently throughout the day, with our reward being a steadily increasing number of fish caught until around dusk we were catching mullet, puffers, blues, and the occassional gray trout with almost every cast. I has the idea that we would sleep in shifts so I tried to get in a little shuteye early in the evening after a nice meal of my award-winning chili. Turns out it's hard to sleep when you hear other people catching fish and having fun. So we all fished into the early hours of Sunday morning until we all had to crash. I slept in the front seat for a couple of hours and when we all came to, we were still beat after around 16 hours of non-stop fishing so we started getting everything together so we could make it to a breakfast buffet. We made it to one in Nagshead and ate like men lost at sea. |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| 5-05 - Seeking Hybrids/Stripers on the Haw- Despite my deeply-ingrained work ethic, I dropped off my girls at their sitter and snuck over to the Robeson Creek Canoe Access on the Haw River to do a little "research". Earlier in the week Gray Talley emailed me to let me know he had caught a bunch of Hybrids there using white woolly buggers. The day was beautiful and sunny without being too hot and I hiked into the trail that leads over to where the rocks first jut out of the river as you come upstream from the lake. Dodging a jungle of poison ivy, I made it over to where I could first climb out onto the rocks to do a little flyfishing. On the first good cast into a nice deep run of water, I saw a flash and felt my rod dip down and I set the hook. I had a nice fight with the hybrid as it pulled with the strong current through the jagged rocks. Soon I had it in an eddying pool and worked it over and up to me. I pulled the white beadhead woolly bugger out of its mouth and eased it back into the water where it vanished in a splash and flash. I fished hard for two more hours without luck. I've got to figure out how to get out earlier (and/or stay later). |
| 4/05 - Weldon Striper Fishing - I met my Uncle Bill at the Walmart on Tryon Road in the morning and we headed for the Roanoke River in search of stripers. Bill had fished there the week before with a "Weldonian" acquaintance and they caught 40 or so in an afternoon and early evening drift using Albino Super Flukes on jigs. We had given Bill's small bassboat a shakedown cruise for the season the weekend before and we were ready to be busy catching "The Rock". As we exited the rough I-95 into downtown Weldon we both realized the impending need for sustenance and quickly sighted the welcoming letters "KFC". Pulling into the very small parking lot, Bill realized he couldn't get the truck and boat maneuvered around to the drive through speaker, so he sent me over to it. As I jumped out of the unfamiliar truck, I slammed my right thumb in the door. As I headed over to the speaker, nursing my sore thumb, a Honda with Maryland plates zipped in front of me and placed an order. As she finished she finally sighted the truck and boat in Her Highness' path and muttered something about someone jumping her. Bill starting placing the order at the window to speed things up and as he finished his simple order of ten pieces, dark, the driver of the Honda got out of her car and stomped over to us. The woman with magenta hair, who was old enough by far to know magenta is not a natural hair color, began complaining to the ordet-taker as the she continued filling our order. The kindly KFC employee explained that we were unable to get to the speaker, and Bill explained to the lady how she would certainly get her food before the sun went down. That's when the cursing began. Magenta told Bill he shouldn't be a certain bodily orifice and BIll said she was the one, then she commented, negatively, upon his hairline. This cracked Bill up and she didn't seem to see the humor in anything going on at the KFC this morning. She continued her harangue as Bill rolled up his window and giggled. Magenta then hit the window and offered to drag Bill out of his truck. More giggling, and then Bill thought of a few politically incorrect and therefore incredibly funny things to say. Once again Magenta seemed to miss the punchline. Our chicken arrived and the kind lady who responded to BIll's original polite behavior with the same, commented on Magenta's probable frustration in the realm of matrimonial relations. After that adventure fishing the rocky flowing river seemed rather tame. We put in and cruised downstream where Bill had caught fish earlier. We fished hard and caught just a few. We should have switched to live bait, as it seemed the only ones catching any of the numerous fish below had done. The bite supposedly improved later in the early evening but we had to get on the long road home. We enjoyed catching what few stripers we actually caught and the weather was perfect. We saw fighting kingfishers and several wild turkeys, two of which flew across the river just twenty feet from our boat. But the adventure was not to end there. We shredded a tire on dragging the boat out and had to limp over to Walmart to get a new tire. Lessons learned from this trip- Driving on 95 does scary things to women with magenta hair Fried chicken tastes better drifting down the Roanoke River Just because the fish are there doesn't mean you are going to catch them. When in doubt, use live bait. Bring a freaking jack, and... Uncles can be very entertaining, especially when provoked. |
| 9/04 - Chowan River Camping Trip - The long-anticipated return to Tunis finally came about this month as Bobby Bracey hosted this trip at the lot where his family once had a vacation home. After Hurricane Isabel his place had to come down, fortunately they were insured and they'll soon put an even nicer place up in its stead. This trip offered an opportunity for two things - the shakedown cruise of James' freshly restored bassboat and the first outing in my vintage camper. Thursday night we headed out with most of our trailer lights working and our vehicles loaded with lots of good food, quality beer, warm and cold weather gear, and all the tackle two dudes would need on a Lewis-and-Clark-type expedition. The Chowan has had a tough time of it in recent years. Hurricanes have had their way with the river, pushing excessive nutrients into the water and temporarily lowering the oxygen levels so low that it decimated the largemouth bass. Wildlife researchers estimated an 80% loss. We hoped to catch a few bass anyway, but we've never been very picky as to what species we catch. I especially enjoy catching new species whenever I can and I knew the Chowan contained a few fish I have never caught. We had a tough time on the water and the weather turned cold on us, but we had plenty of wood to burn and lots of good food to eat so we were fine. We did catch some bass in the mornings and a few assorted bream and crappie. I caught a nice chain pickerel on a flyrod, which is a species that had eluded me over the years. The boat and the camper worked great, we caught fish, Bobby's neighbors had us over for a huge oyster roast, The Riverside Restaurant is as nice as ever where we ate hundreds of oysters shucked by a very cute and tolerant waitress. It was such a great trip I almost wish Bobby would leave his lot vacant so we could do this same exact trip again. |
| 6/04 - Doing it like the Locals at Long Beach- This month we had a nice family beach trip at Long Beach. I know it's called Oak Island now, but it's been Long Beach to me for 37 years and that's not about to change. That's messing with some of my favorite childhood memories. We had our hands full with our 2 girls and my niece. Bro-In-Law James and I were able to get away and after having no luck trying for flounder in the inlet, we tried out our nascent casting skills in the creek that runs through the island. On recent trips, while pier fishing with fresh shrimp, we witnessed the "pros" using live shrimp on a sliding bobber rig. These guys caught the nice specks while we caught mullet, blues and sharks. After lots of practice on the receding tide, we got the hang of it and started catching a shrimp here and there. As we got better and the channels of the creek got narrower and more dense with shrimp, finger mullet, menhaden, and mudminnows, we started filling up our bucket with some nice bait. While not exactly perfecting our casts, we certainly improved and we collected plenty of bait. Add to that the fun of squishing around in the mud and the friendship I shared with a small snowy egret, it was almost as much fun as fishing. Of course, the relationship with the bird was based on my ability to give it smallish shrimp, not anything mutual and lasting, and the mud contained too many foot-lacerating oyster shells, but that just makes it real. The subsequent fishing started out slow, with too many little sharks and skates in the water and not enough trout. We tried variations of bait and presentation until finally I rigged up a rattling float with a shorter line from float to hook. I put a shiny menhaden on the hook and dropped it into to the water. After a few moments, I looked down at my line and could actually make out my bait as it flashed in the late morning sun. A nice fish abruptly rose and rolled over my bait and jerked it down into the murky green water as I stared for an microinstant before instinctively setting the hook. I was rewarded with a strong tug of an angry fish and shouted "good fish" or "goodun'" or "holy crap" or something like that to James. He ran down the pier and grabbed a pier net and dropped down next to where the struggle was going on. I smoothly slid the half defeated trout onto the net and James pulled it up to us. It was a nice speck and made the day for us. It seemed a greater victory since we gathered our own bait, kind of like catching a fish on an experimental fly you tied yourself. |
| damaged or destroyed, as well as the dock. In the typical uppercut punch of hurricanes as they hit North Carolina, Isabel raced its way through the Ahoskie area and ruined my friend Bobby Bracey's house on the river. Thousands of people's lives have been harmed by this hurricane, some having no insurance to restore their damaged lives. I guess I should keep my whining mouth shut and be glad I haven't lost more than a couple of weekends of fishing. But those weekends mean so much to me I'm likely open it anyway. Bobby emailed us soon after Isabel to tell us the news. His place was flooded and washed out. Our fall trip was off. Fortunately Bobby bought flood insurance after Floyd. I was really looking forward to that trip. I've fished the Chowan while the bass populations have been down and reports that they were on the comeback was heartening. After hearing from Bobby, I talked to Uncle Bill and got the bad news from him. He heard a Ranger had flown over the island and said there were no dunes from the point all the way to the lighthouse. The docks were destroyed. The cabins were as well. So I currently have no trips planned for fishing. A sorry state indeed. What I was able to do was get away from the cottage on a family beach trip to do a little adventuring. Probably 10 years ago, my wife to be, Tracie, planned for us to camp out at Bear Island. Bear Island is a barrier island in Hammock's Beach State Park just offshore from Swansboro and across the inlet from Emerald Isle. Well the time came for us to get going and one of us punked out on going. We can't agree on who it was. Ever since then I have wanted to check it out. Recently, we've been going to Emerald Isle (free place to stay) and the idea of paddling out there on my kayak has been on my mind. I've heard from fairly reliable sources that the fishing around the island is good. Puppy Drum can be found in the grasses and channels behind the island and the surf fishing is, well, surf fishing without a bunch of idiot non-anglers drifting into where your multiple hook fishfinder rig lies in wait and when warned acting like you are the interloper. Maybe next time I won't warn the friggin' morons. Anyway, back to the kayak trip. I shanghaied my Brother-In-Law into paddling with me, coaxing him with the lure of a beach with no wives or children to interfere with fishing. We drove over to Swansboro with some knowledge of when the high tide would be ending so we could ride out with the tide. We unloaded the boat, a Wilderness Systems Pairadise, off the truck and carried it over to the launching area. My kayak is a bargain version of Wilderness Systems angler setups. I bought the Pairadise, which is a older model recreational 1 or 2 person boat, as a demo model special and outfitted it with all the features that they put on $1,000 boats. It works pretty well on small calm water with 1 person, and I was about to find out how well it would work with 2 on a longer trip. We were outfitted pretty well for 2 guys on a 13 foot sit-on-top kayak for an afternoon of fishing. We had a 9' med.heavy rod & reel, a nice 7' trout rod, and a 9 weight flyrod between us, all necessary tackle, 2 polartec jackets, some nabs and assorted snacks, some soft drinks, and a cold sixpack. In a "dry" bag, I had my 5 megapixel digital camera, wallet, keys, and James had his company mobile phone. We set out with a small group of paddlers who oddly enough didn't carry any fishing rods with them. I've always been puzzled by people who own watercraft and don't fish. What's the point? Everything seemed to being working out fine as we kept pace with them even though we made a few casts here and there and stopped to snap a couple of pictures. Eventually I came to realize that we couldn't seem to keep to a straight track. The kayak short length requires synchronization of paddling to keep us from slapping paddles together. Although I was in the stern, I had a tough time keeping in rhythm with James. Mostly because James' paddling rhythm was to the tune of something from Yoko Ono. James' only paddling experience has been in canoes and he seemed to forget that he had a paddle on both ends of his stick. Also he dug in the water like he had to get to Bear Island with one stroke, constantly changing the direction of the boat. No matter how much I nagged. Well, when we got there one of the others asked us if we were still friends. James acknowledged that I was his Brother-in-law and therefore had no choice in the matter. That's when we had our first couple of beers. We found some half decent sloughs to fish in and managed to catch some blues, mullet, a pompano, and a nice black drum. We replaced the drinks and food in the cooler with fish, filling it up. We've developed a fondness for beverages with a little fish slime around the lip. Realizing we could not wait until low tide was over, we decided to work our way out of the lagoon at almost dead low tide. We were warned that we would be doing some dragging, so we took it as a challenge to try to paddle our way all the way through. The lagoon was still deep enough at its tip, but we could tell it got shallower toward the middle and on over to the mouth. We worked our way out by hugging the seaward edge against the grass. Then our little trail meandered through the mouth, and although we slid over some sand and pushed our paddles into the sand to keep going, we never had to get our lazy, but determined, butts out of the boat to get out of the lagoon. We made our way back, although we did have to get out at one point 2/3 of the way back. Next time we go, it'll be for a longer stay. Maybe James will have his own boat by then. |
| Late '06 to 11-'07- My most recent successful fishing trip took place early this October. The Chowan River Crew got together for what we hoped would be a nice trip where noone had tire blowouts on I-40, the Cottonmouths kept their distance, and Nor'easters stayed out of the forecast. In other words, we hoped for the opposite of our recent three or four forays in the wild. Things turned out well, the weather was fine, and with the exception of some boat battery issues, our trip went smoothly. After a little experimentation we found a pattern that worked on bass. We worked down the main river channel, casting white floating worms around huge cypress trees. Working with the wind, with only minor trolling motor corrections, we were able to fish like this for miles, catching nice bass often enough to make us pay attention to every cast. We quickly lost count, and caught almost all healthy bass from 1 to 4 pounds. A perfect fishing trip. My Latest Toy - This June I found a Boston Whaler 13 for sale cheap on Craigslist while looking for parts for my 18' center console project. I had been thinking about rigging up a jonboat or getting a Tracker for a lightweight bassboat at some point and then the idea of a little Whaler just sang to me as a great idea. I went to see the boat and I could see why no one had bought it even though it was a highly collectible little Whaler. The previous owner had rigged it up as a bassboat, which I had a notion to do, but he didn't do it exactly up to my standards. The treated lumber decks were rotten and it was painted a very early '80's metallic navy blue. It looked like the perfect project to me and I handed over the $800. Did I also mention it had a 2 year old foot controlled trolling motor, and the galvanized trailer was in good shape. My first reasoning was that I could put it in the water immediately and start fishing while I worked on the Wellcraft. Unfortunately, the ancient Seahorse 15 motor needed more work than I thought, but I didn;t worry about it. I had decided to put my effort into this in the hopes of having it ready by Fall. Well, it's fall now and it's not done, typical with my schedule nowadays, but I have made good progress on it. The biggest setback was the transom. IThe previous owner had chopped it down to fit the little motor on it. I couldn't find a short shaft motor so I decided to raise the transom. I found several sources for doing that through Boston Whaler collector websites. Some of the 13 were short and some were long. I used some of the info, bent some marine plywood, epoxied it up and cut it to fit. Then I used epoxied stainless bolts to peg it into the rest of the transom and then fiberglassed it and smoothed everything out with thickened epoxy. Then I had lots of holes to fill with epoxy and smooth. Now I've begun to paint the boat. I am painting the boat with my version of Mossy Oak Shadowgrass. So far though I just have the tan base coat and I have prepped the stencils I made by taping plastic around the edges. I'll be using spray mount adhesive to keep the stencils close to the boat when painting and I'm not going to spray heavily with the other colors. I can't wait and I need to get to work before it gets too cold. I've got everything else ready to slide into the boat. I made a fore and aft deck with epoxied marine plywood. On that I'm putting stainless seat mount bases, 2 side by side in the "cockpit" area for travel and one in the middle of each deck for fishing out of. The seats are a grassy camo to match. I bought a 35 Evinrude for the boat which I think will be perfect for it. I made a side console based on the ones I've seen on classic Whaler 13's using marine mahagony plywood. I mitered the corners so you can't tell it's plywood. On the console I've got a new steering kit, a little tinted plexi windshield I cut and bent myself, and a little fishfinder. It looks awesome. Once the paint is done it all comes together. I can't wait. Transom Replacement - I decided to replace the transom on my Wellcraft. There was some rot around the scuppers and drain. I was working on it during the heat of the summer and I ended up just about having to chisel it out bit by bit because, although I'm glad I did it so I can have total confidence in it, it wasn't as thoroughly rotten as I had feared. Now it is as thick as before, but instead of fir ply with polyester resin coating, it's meranti ply with a complete epoxy encapsulation and heavy duty fiberglass wrap. It's lighter and stronger than when it left the factory. Now I need to get the stringers and deck done, and then I can do the fun part of mounting the restored console and all the other nice stuff that are taking up space in my garage. |