Tidelines – April 9, 2015
“Impossible? No. Difficult? Yes,” was the reply from Capt. Rob Koraly, of Sandbar Safari Charters out of the Swansboro area, in response to a buddy’s opinion (via cellphone) of Rob’s goal that morning of catching an early April redfish on the fly in the back bays of Emerald Isle.
Publisher Gary Hurley with a slot red caught on the fly while wading a shoreline in the Swansboro area. Hurley was fishing with Capt. Rob Koraly (of Sandbar Safari Charters) and Rob’s father Bob.
The wind, one of our difficulties, was mostly cooperating, but only mostly. Small gusts would periodically come up out of the southeast, and as it goes, often at the most unfortunate times, like just when we spot a knot of about 30-40 reds up ahead with the boat facing directly into the wind.
The larger difficulty that morning, though, was the skittish nature of all of the reds we came up on while under trolling motor and covering grass banks and oyster ledges. None of the schools we spotted would let us get anywhere close to them, and boat traffic in the area may have been the explanation. The fish are edgy and tense, Rob explained, because most likely they had been under some fishing pressure for a couple of days now. You can bang on a school in the clear spring water for only so long before the reds either get up and move or stay away from even the slightest disturbance.
Rob had invited me up for a spring break fly fishing trip. My last class at CFCC had been on a Wednesday, and here I was Thursday morning joining Rob and his father Bob, with both Bob and I armed with fly rods and a mutual commitment to the fly. No matter how frustrated or tempted we got to abandon the fly, the three of us had vowed not to go for the more comfortable spinning gear that would allow us to cast bait or artificials and give a greater range of casting distance to reach out to anxious reds.
Before tackling the open bay system, Rob thought he might be able to get Bob and I on a quick red on the fly around a couple of docks, an area better protected from the wind and one that had produced fish for Rob earlier in the week. Maybe the fish were no longer there, or maybe the fish only wanted to eat by smell (Rob had been using cut bait on the fish earlier in the week, as even Gulp hadn’t motivated these fish to strike). Whatever the reason, none of the flies—slow sinking or fast sinking—we dragged by any of the pilings met with a bite.
So here we were after two stops, the docks and the first set of open bays, and the “difficult” was starting to feel more like the “impossible.” Then Rob found inspiration in a story his dad had told earlier that day on the boat, a story about wading out for trout in the Florida gulf. A new strategy was set, and Rob pulled the boat up to a shallow grass bank and instructed me to hop off the boat and walk quietly to the water on the other side. There I would walk down the shoreline and look for fish to cast to.
Rob and his dad took the longer water route around to the same shoreline I was walking. As the boat came closer, a large school of reds showed themselves in the distance by pushing water across a shallow point. Rob quickly pulled back and made a roundabout course for a spot ahead of the fish to try and push them back.
My instructions were to get in position to cast where the fish had just crossed. From a few practice casts I learned that my line on the ground was quick to hang up on exposed oyster rocks, so I walked out into about 6-8 inches of water, just enough so that all oyster rocks were under water and my line could lay snag-free on the water’s surface.
Rob and Bob located our school, blocked their exit path, and slowly and carefully started pushing the fish back to me.
Between the glare on the water and my low point of visibility, I was now blind casting, repeatedly getting my fly out and then quick stripping and pausing it back in. After about 30 or so odd casts, the school finally moved back into the body of water I could reach, and my fly came tight to a slot red. Rob’s plan, inspired by Bob’s Florida story, had given me my first red drum on the fly while wading (even if it was only six-ish inches of water and I was wearing my green sneakers, socks, and pants—having no idea that morning that I was going in the cool springtime water).
I am a lucky man in many ways—beautiful wife, healthy kids, great friends, etc.—however, my good luck with red drum and the fly continues to grow as I am now three for three on my only three trips for red drum on the fly.
My luck, of course, is enhanced by going with accomplished guides like Capt. Rob Koraly. Three for three for a novice with marginal fly skills like mine is a pretty impressive stat, but not impressive in regards to me. Two of those three reds are compliments of Capt. Rob Koraly, and that’s clearly where the kudos lie—with Rob. And on this most recent red on the fly, where I took to land to hunt a fish down, the kudos also lie with Bob Koraly.
This recommendation is an easy one: if targeting red drum sounds like fun to you, then give Capt. Rob Koraly a call at (252) 725-4614. Or if you visit www.SandbarSafari.com, you’ll see that he successfully targets just about anything that swims in North Carolina waters.
Make your own spring break, and then send us the photos.
