Tidelines – April 10, 2014
Publisher Gary Hurley with a “fish of no consequence,” other than fodder for this issue’s Tidelines column. The flounder was caught on a jighead with cut shrimp, and narrowly edged out a toadfish for this photo appearance.
Somehow yard work all weekend and every weekend has become my new normal. So when two weeks had passed since our last issue and I was faced with writing yet another Tidelines column without the help of a fishing trip to talk about, I was disgusted with myself. Here I am with the power of Fisherman’s Post behind me, and yet I hadn’t found even a few hours on the water to catch a fish, take a photo, and have something to write about.
Mondays and Tuesdays are our “go to print” days, keeping everyone close to the office for long hours; however, Max and I manipulated the work load to free up some time early Tuesday morning to try to find a fish to write about. And when I say Max and I manipulated the workload, what I really mean is that I asked Max to work on Sunday to get ahead of his workload so that the two of us could hop on my boat for a few hours at sunrise on Tuesday.
Just for point of reference, scheduling three hours of fishing on the morning of our evening print deadline isn’t a great recipe for success. Sure, on any given day you could go out and catch a quick couple of fish, but Murphy’s Law and other variables seem to work against a fishing trip as soon as you put the pressure of the pen and camera on the trip (as well as the hard 10:00 am finish time).
So my plan for a Tuesday fish was already suspect on Monday late afternoon when Max and I touched base about our options, and unfortunately the percentage of success only grew worse as we gathered our intel.
I think that this is a good point in the article to note that this fishing story doesn’t end with a big fish caught at the buzzer against all odds, rather it ends quietly with a toadfish and an undersized flounder. And this article also doesn’t turn the small flounder and toad into some metaphor for life lessons about “it’s all about perspective” or “appreciation for the smaller things in life.” No, this fish story just ends with fish of no consequence.
Back to the story, the next Monday night detail to work against us was the weather forecast for Tuesday morning—lots of rain and lots of wind. Then we gathered a fishing report from a local captain that had a trip a few days ago working his favorite fishing haunts from Whiskey Creek to Bradley Creek. His report? No fish to be found.
Though there was little reason to be optimistic, still Max and I made the plan to meet at the Wrightsville Beach public boat ramps at 7:00 am. Max would bring some clams and Gulp, and I would bring bait shrimp and more Gulps.
Though this was my boat’s inaugural fishing run of 2014, our first stop was the very familiar southern jetty in Masonboro Inlet. It had been a long winter since Max and I fished together (and even longer since Max and I fished together on my boat), but still some things never change, even (or perhaps especially) on the first trip of the year.
I showed up without any rigs tied, so in the No Wake zone Max fixed one of my rods up with a double drop rig. While he was tying it, like usual I promised to learn the dropper loop before our next fishing trip so that he would never have to tie one for me again. And like usual, Max let me believe that statement to be true (knowing that he would be tying it again in the near future).
We quickly found the pretty bottom that we were looking for just a few feet off of the rocks, but unfortunately no tautogs or sheepshead were ready and waiting. The only action we had (other than one small toadfish, that I actually thought about photographing for the purposes of this article) was grass on the hooks and 6’8” Max hitting his head (repeatedly, like usual) on the T-Top.
We pulled anchor, or rather pulled the GPS trolling motor, and headed for a couple of ICW docks with hopes of red and/or black drum. Remember, there is no suspense to this article. There are no red drum or black drum on this trip, just one undersized flounder.
The flounder may have been small, but it was easy to smile for the camera. I had a fish, but way more importantly I had a fishing trip to write about. Without that toadfish and flounder, you would have just finished reading 800 or so words of self-promotion, as I would have used Tidelines to pump up our upcoming Topsail Island Surf Fishing Challenge.
So are there any important life lessons in that toadfish and small flounder? I haven’t yet come up with anything philosophical or metaphysical, but I am reminded of that age old adage passed down by every generation: time on the water is better than shoveling dirt, laying a flagstone walkway, and raking leaves in preparation for your wife’s sister’s rehearsal dinner/party to be hosted at your house in less than two weeks.
