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Grandson Steven and I hit the pier again this morning.Feet hit the floor at 4 AM. We walked on the pier about 10 minutes after 6 with a quart of live shrimp and high expectations and it was a gorgeous morning with promise that it would be a great day. It was, however a totally different day than last Thursday.
We started off hot with fairly green water and no bite whatsoever. Then a little shower went over and it was accompanied by some freshening breezes from the SSE. This pushed in a lot of Really clean green water. And the bite was on...Well, sorta.
Steven is very playful and has a very outgoing personality. He loves to tease and play jokes. All morning he'd been yelling out, "FISH ON", his new favorite two words. I reminded him about the little boy who cried wolf.
He just grinned.
I turned around and started fishing off the other side of the pier and all of a sudden....OOOHHHHH, I mean FISH ON. I didn't even have to turn around. I cxould hear that drag on that little Zebco 33 Platinum jist a gittin' it!
I stood beside him and he looked up with panic all over his face and said what do I do? Here, you take it!
I said that he was doing fine. That he could stand there and hold the rod and watch his line fly out over the rail as well as I could.
I let him hold it for a while and then I began to wonder just how much line that reel had on it. Also the fish had been running straight out now he turned and was running right up even with the pier. I took the rod and ran down the pier to try to catch up. I caught him and got him ready for the net without letting him wrap line around the pilings. I gave the rod back to Steven and Dropped the net down and under the fish.
It was a 24" jack cravelle. Ran like a scalded ash dog. That little BillyStiX rod did it's thang and I really gotta brag on that little Zebco. It has a lot more muscle than I'd have ever imagined. The combo turned out to be plenty of gun for this fiesty little jack. He was definitely headed out for the open gulf.
Then we started catching baby blacktip sharks...and ladyfish. The the BIG BAD RAY hit Stevens live shrimp and I wasn't sure there for a couple of seconds if I was going to get to him in time to keep him on the pier. One thing I had no worries about was that he was not about to let go of that rod. I stood next to him and let him fight his fight (we didn't know what it was at that point) until it started trying to go under the pier.
I took the rod and got him up under us and saw it was a ray, I'm guessing in the 40 to 50 pound range. Not about to put that nasty deamon in my net or on the pier and I reached down and cut the line. Steven was a little cheezed off at first but after I explained it to him he was cool with it.
We saw no hardheads, croaker, whiting, sandtrout or any smallet stuff you can expect to catch. But right at the end of our time there I caught a 17 inch whiting. In case y'all ain't checked out on whiting that one would fall in the "dang big" class.
I filleted him and threw the scraps over the rail. I turned around to say something to Steven and a dang seagul swooped down and got one of the fillets. There were a dozen or so diving and swooping and screaming "MINE, MINE, MINEMINE, MINE, MINEMINEMINE!
I must investigate the feasability of taking a Glock on the pier.
Finally the heat got to Steven and we had to roll em up. But he knows what it feels like to get slammed now and I wanted that for him. It was all he talked about all the way home...till he fell asleep coming down off the causeway, that is.
Pics:
1. Sunrise
2. The proverbial hole in the floor of Heaven.
3. The moon at 9:30 in the AM.
4. Steven's scrappy little jackfish.
5. Just one of the baby sharks we caught. (No it ain't a rubber shark from the souvineer shop!) :slimer:
We started off hot with fairly green water and no bite whatsoever. Then a little shower went over and it was accompanied by some freshening breezes from the SSE. This pushed in a lot of Really clean green water. And the bite was on...Well, sorta.
Steven is very playful and has a very outgoing personality. He loves to tease and play jokes. All morning he'd been yelling out, "FISH ON", his new favorite two words. I reminded him about the little boy who cried wolf.
He just grinned.
I turned around and started fishing off the other side of the pier and all of a sudden....OOOHHHHH, I mean FISH ON. I didn't even have to turn around. I cxould hear that drag on that little Zebco 33 Platinum jist a gittin' it!
I stood beside him and he looked up with panic all over his face and said what do I do? Here, you take it!
I said that he was doing fine. That he could stand there and hold the rod and watch his line fly out over the rail as well as I could.
I let him hold it for a while and then I began to wonder just how much line that reel had on it. Also the fish had been running straight out now he turned and was running right up even with the pier. I took the rod and ran down the pier to try to catch up. I caught him and got him ready for the net without letting him wrap line around the pilings. I gave the rod back to Steven and Dropped the net down and under the fish.
It was a 24" jack cravelle. Ran like a scalded ash dog. That little BillyStiX rod did it's thang and I really gotta brag on that little Zebco. It has a lot more muscle than I'd have ever imagined. The combo turned out to be plenty of gun for this fiesty little jack. He was definitely headed out for the open gulf.
Then we started catching baby blacktip sharks...and ladyfish. The the BIG BAD RAY hit Stevens live shrimp and I wasn't sure there for a couple of seconds if I was going to get to him in time to keep him on the pier. One thing I had no worries about was that he was not about to let go of that rod. I stood next to him and let him fight his fight (we didn't know what it was at that point) until it started trying to go under the pier.
I took the rod and got him up under us and saw it was a ray, I'm guessing in the 40 to 50 pound range. Not about to put that nasty deamon in my net or on the pier and I reached down and cut the line. Steven was a little cheezed off at first but after I explained it to him he was cool with it.
We saw no hardheads, croaker, whiting, sandtrout or any smallet stuff you can expect to catch. But right at the end of our time there I caught a 17 inch whiting. In case y'all ain't checked out on whiting that one would fall in the "dang big" class.
I filleted him and threw the scraps over the rail. I turned around to say something to Steven and a dang seagul swooped down and got one of the fillets. There were a dozen or so diving and swooping and screaming "MINE, MINE, MINEMINE, MINE, MINEMINEMINE!
I must investigate the feasability of taking a Glock on the pier.
Finally the heat got to Steven and we had to roll em up. But he knows what it feels like to get slammed now and I wanted that for him. It was all he talked about all the way home...till he fell asleep coming down off the causeway, that is.
Pics:
1. Sunrise
2. The proverbial hole in the floor of Heaven.
3. The moon at 9:30 in the AM.
4. Steven's scrappy little jackfish.
5. Just one of the baby sharks we caught. (No it ain't a rubber shark from the souvineer shop!) :slimer:
