OUTDOORS
Cast and blast. It’s been awhile since I did it. This time instead of a morning of fishing and an afternoon of hunting [or vice versa], we did it in two mornings.
I was eager to fish with my brother, Wayne, after six months in the Rio Grande Valley. Wayne lives in Aransas Pass and that’s where we fish.
We motored out of Hampton Harbor early and started casting at first light into a deeper hole in Redfish Bay. I caught an undersized redfish on the first cast. I consider that a good omen.
Soon after, Wayne hooked into a strong fish. Another, redfish? No, it was a nice 17-inch black drum. The perfect size to eat. Then I caught a black drum that looked like his twin. We were off to a good start.
We kept fishing the same hole. It was full of fish. We caught both a nice keeper redfish then several big speckled trout. One was over the 20-inch maximum so we released her. Then caught another black drum.
By 11 a.m. we had our limit of six trout plus three redfish and three black drum. Not bad for our early morning trip.
The next morning, Wayne and I drove our seperate pick-ups to Karnes County where I have a turkey lease on Cibolo Creek.
After a brief breakfast of apple fritters and coffee from one of those donut places that are always open early, we traveled on to Panna Maria and Cibolo Creek. I knew where the turkeys were roosting since I had scouted three days earlier.
As we were getting our guns and equipment out of the trucks, Wayne hit the alarm on the truck. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Wake up turkeys, we are on the way.
After about a 200-yard walk, we set up our camo blind against a fence. I set up a hen decoy in the field behind us. It was still pitch black. With our shotguns loaded, it was just time to wait.
As the sky began to lighen in the East, turkey hens began to yelp on the roost. Two hens flew down and walked in front of our blind. I made a soft yelp on my call and got an immediate gobble. Game on!
The gobbler was in no hurry coming to us. Turkey calling is really nature in reverse. Tom turkeys gobble to lure hens to them. We made the hen sounds to bring the gobblers to us.
The gobbler stopped his gobbles but began to cutt as he drew closer. Then he shut up. We know he was close, but was he on our side of the creek?
I happened to look across Wayne’s left shoulder and saw the gobbler cross under the fence and start across a wet grass field behind us. Wayne and I both got our guns on him, but he seemed a bit too far. We started to pull the trigger, but we didn’t want to cripple him. He was a majestic tom. So we let him walk.
I left Wayne at the blind and drove down to a pecan bottom where I have often seen turkeys. But after an hour of calling without a response, I rejoined Wayne.
He had a turkey story. He had made a few yelps on my box call and got an immediate response. The turkey came in close, but stayed behind some brush. The gobbler kept sounding out cutt. But Wayne never saw him even though he was probably within 15 yards.
We thought maybe we were finished. But not yet. A tom gobbled about 150 yards away. I called, and he responded with a loud gobble. For the next 30 minutes we played cat and mouse with him. He would gobble, and I would call. We knew he was coming on closer. He never made the cutt sound, only gobbles.
Then he got quiet and we waited without calling. I began to think he was gone, when suddenly, he stepped out of the brush along the creek right in front of us. The range was about 25 steps. As I raised my shotgun to shoot, he saw movement, turned around and disappeared.
We were disappointed. Three gobblers had come to our calls. We also saw several hens and 11 deer. That’s an exciting morning. Score: Turkeys 3, Hunters 0. But count the score at halftime. We’ll be back.
