Blasting and casting down near the gulf coast

People sometimes ask me which I like the most — hunting or fishing. It’s like, do you like cherry or apple pie the most? If bird hunting is good, it’s my favorite. If fishing is hot, I like it the best.

Last week I got to do both — blast and cast. My friend, Bill Jones, purchased a dove hunt for four of us in a field near Sinton. We had planned to hunt white-winged doves in south Texas where Bill had shot a limit of birds a few days prior. But the outfitter said the birds had moved. Doves can be fickle. Here one day and gone the next.

But he called Bill to report that another of his connections reported lots of doves feeding in a sesame seed field between Mathis and Sinton.

My wife, Beth, and I had planned to fish the coast near Aransas Pass on Monday and Tuesday. So we stopped on the way to Aransas to hunt with Bill late Sunday afternoon. Bill’s youngest son, Joshua, rode down with us.

Bill and a contractor friend, Gabriel, were already shooting when we arrived. Mourning doves were pouring into the field. Beth let us out with our dogs and proceeded on to Aransas Pass. Many years ago, she would have stayed to hunt with me. But her hunting desire has diminished with older age. My desire just gets stronger.

We dropped Joshua off with his dog, Grizzly, on a fence line. Bill let me and my dog, Annie, out a few hundred yards farther.

A south wind was gusting to about 35 mph. Doves flying with the wind were faster than rockets. Almost before I could rise my 20 gauge they would be 100 yards past me. Shooting was extremely difficult. After a few minutes of misses (I had one bird) I knew I had to do something different.

I noticed that some birds were flying into the field from the north — against the wind. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that they would be slower.

Annie and I trudged across the field to the edge of a plowed field. I had noticed that good numbers of birds were following the edge between the sesame seed field and the plowed field. I set my dove stool behind a few weeds and soon kept Annie busy retrieving. It was hot shooting. My shooting percentage rose dramatically with my new position. I dropped two set of doubles Then three birds came down my field edge. When I pulled the trigger, two birds fell. Two with one shot. That sure helped my average.

I could hear Joshua firing regularly. Bill and Gabe were keeping their barrels hot across the creek.

Late in the afternoon, Joshua came to check on me. Joshua will be 21 on Nov. 1 and he keeps a good eye out for his 80-year-old buddy. When he knew I was OK, he walked the whole length of the sesame seed field jump-shooting doves. Most were long shots but his 12 gauge shotgun was reaching them. I saw several fall.

A few minutes before sunset, Bill and Gabe drove out to pick us up. All four of us had limited with 15 doves each. We will not tell how many boxes of shells we fired to get those limits in such a high wind.

After cleaning the birds, we met Beth at the Whataburger in Sinton.

The next morning, I was totally surprised by the weather. With such powerful winds the evening before, I expected a tough weather day for fishing. But there was about zero wind Monday morning.

Annie and I motored at a high rate of speed down the Intracoastal Canal (ICW) just at daylight toward Corpus Christi Bay. We had a high tide, so crossing the sandbar into my favorite hole was simple.

It was a beautiful morning. My close call with a recent attack made me appreciate the morning all the more. Fishing was not real fast but I did catch one nice keeper trout and several “rat” redfish (under 20 inches). Then I had a powerful hit. As the fish took line off my reel spool, I knew that I had hooked into a keeper redfish. Annie watched the whole battle with high interest. Finally, I slipped the net under 22 inches of redfish. He had been fooled by a white-chartreuse tail Gulp shrimp on a quarter ounce lead-head.

Then the cold front hit. Strong northeast winds began to blow. At about noon, I haded the bow onto the strong wind — blowing right at me on the ICW. We had to slow down our return trip but eventually were at the boat ramp. And we had enough fish fillets for a good seafood supper.

Blast and cast — it’s had to beat.