I don’t understand the salt life. Not when it comes to fly fishing, at least. Anglers from all walks of life have had astounding successes, yet for me it remains the Kobayashi Maru. I can’t for the life of me unlock the magic that I see on my instagram feed. Have you ever checked out what Austin Orr brings to hand? What do I have to compare? This. It’s really not fair. I want to catch a tailing drum so bad. To sight, stalk, and cast to a tail would be a joy; one that I have only had happen once. I don’t even need to hook or catch it (though I would not turn down the invitation)… I could feel much better about my intelligence level if I merely found the opportunity.
When I am shuffling my feet through knee deep bay water, it is tails I am in search of. That’s how I want to catch them, or at the very least attempt to catch them after all. I have not found what I was looking for to date, but I have learned many small lessons along the way. For one, mullet are to red fishing what squirrels are to deer hunting. Another lesson is stingrays don’t like to be stepped on. But mostly I’ve learned just how many red herrings one can find while searching for drum of any flavor. May I present, a list of tachycardic objects I have spent an embarrassing amount of time stalking in the pursuit of my goals.
EIGHT THINGS THAT AREN’T REDFISH TAILS
8) The exposed corner of a discarded bag of sunchips, any flavor.
7) That rock in the middle of the bay I swear wasn’t there a few minutes ago.
6) Deviously placed broken oyster shells.
5) &$@%#* mullet.
4) Renounced bobbers still tethered to their sinkers.
3) An extremely shallow and possibly dying Hardhead catfish.
2) An odd partially submerged survey marking flag.
and most annoying
1) An unfairly undulating pelican’s tail feather.