Hopping wakes in the Captain's Copperhead Skiff. On the way out it looked like someone was having a parade of million dollar yachts. The Captain's substantial
skill at the wheel kept us from being swamped.
Vernon and Gordon checking out the nets of some commercial fishermen who were working the beach. These aren't the gill nets Gordon is fighting against (these were ocean nets) but I did get a dose of the ones in the creeks first hand later in the day.
Some of the by catch that gets tossed in to the sea (too late for this one). Vernon did manage to toss a few drum back in but it was probably too late for them as well.
Either the Captain is camera shy or this is the gang sign for, "I hope to hell you can cast!"
Here are few photos from the weekend trip to the coast to hang out with FlyfishMagazine's saltwater fly fishing Guru, Captain Gordon Chruchill. The speckled trout bite was a bust but Gordon made up for it by loading me up in his skiff to chase reds in the shallow water.
The first fish we sighted withing minutes of arriving in the spartina grass, ate my fly only to find me trout striking it right out of its mouth. We saw tons of fish but, in addition to my casting challenges, the water was just dingy enough that the fish only appeared when they were about 10 feet from the boat. Believe it or not, it seemed easier for me to hit the 40 foot cast than the 10 foot one. I am guessing this was because I only had about a second or two to react to the short shot. The good Captain (kindly) said that I had maybe five good shots at fish and that we saw around 75. He was being generous. I probably had five shots within my marginal skill level but there were many more catchable fish swimming that day.
Anyway, I am off to Wally World to buy some hula hoops and will be enlisting the trophy wife's aid to shout out "10 O'clock 20 feet out" and "30 feet 3 O'clock" over and over again until I get it right.