OUTDOORS
Some days you don’t have to catch a great number of fish to make the trip memorable. That’s how it turned out for my wife, Beth, and me last week in Corpus Christi Bay.
My plans were to fish with my brother, Wayne, on Wednesday. Beth doesn’t like me to fish alone so she went with me on Tuesday. Beth is a good fisherman when she really tries. On other days she gives a half-hearted effort.
We had a beautiful day to fish - low winds, clear bay waters and blue skies. Instead of fishing aquatic-grass on the flats, I decided to fish some old, defunct gas wells in Corpus Bay.
We circled an old well with the electric motor to see if any fish were on the well. Beth caught one speckled trout as I made the circle. That was a good indicator. So we tried up to the backside of the well. Two more speckled trout ate our plastic shrimp lures. Then the sand trout began to bite. Sand trout are good to eat but don’t freeze well. It’s best to fry them fresh.
We hadn’t been at the well very long before Beth hooked a strong fish. After about a five minute fight, I netted a nice shark, about 5 pounds. Some fisherman eat sharks but I don’t like them. We released the shark.
It wasn’t before long Beth was hooked into another shark. It was about the same size as her first one.
We caught several more sand trout. We kept the larger ones. I knew they would make good fish tacos. I cut up a small trout and hooked a big piece on Beth’s lead head. Soon she hooked into another good fish.
”Looks like you are on another good shark,” I said.
After about ten minutes, I said, “Must be a really big shark.”
The fish continued to fight. Now we are about 15 minutes in. I coached Beth to crank down and lift on the fish. That’s the only way she could get any line back. The fish had burned off so much line and was far out from the boat.
”My arms are killing me,” she moaned.
“Don’t give up. You are winning,” I said.
I wasn’t so sure but I kept on encouraging her. After about 25 minutes, we saw the fish surface far behind the boat. It wasn’t a shark. The red color let us know that she was fighting a big, bull red fish. We both got excited.
Soon the fish began to tire and got near the gas well.
”Keep lots of pressure on him,” I said. “Don’t let him get into the structure of the well.”
Beth was tired but she was having a ball. She finally got the fish into the boat but he wouldn’t fit into my landing net. So I reached down, grabbed him by the gills and rolled him into the boat.
My fish measuring stick only went to 28 inches. No help there. The fish was at least 38 inches with huge shoulders. We could have used Beth’s license oversize tag for a trophy red fish over 28 inches but we decided to release him.
The hook was deep in his stomach. I knew that surgery to remove the hook would be lethal. So I cut the line and left the hook in the fish. It wouldn’t take the salt water long to rust out the hook.
This 30-pound red fish wasn’t Beth’s largest fish. She caught a 100-pound leaping tarpon in Belize and a beautiful sailfish in Costa Rica. But it was the biggest fish on light tackle and she was proud of him.
Beth laid the rod down and said with a smile, “I’m done.”
