Tidelines – August 25, 2011
If the old saying is true, “A couple that catches big red drum together, stays together,” then my friend Capt. Charles Brown recently served as a great marriage counselor.
Leslie, my wife of almost nine years, and I went up to Cedar Island (this trip was only about four days after I had been up there with buddies—see last issue’s Tidelines) for a date night that consisted of heading out in the Pamlico after dark for an evening of fighting 40+ inch “old” red drum.
I’ve been telling stories to Leslie for the past three years about my friend Charlie Brown, a big guy with a strong Harkers Island accent that says a lot of funny things but always finds a way to deliver not just great fishing action but a great experience on the water.
Somehow these two important people in my life—Leslie and Charlie—had never met face-to-face, so Charlie’s invite for a Wednesday evening trip seemed perfect for a date night.
Though if I’m being honest, inviting Leslie, truth be told, also meant that I didn’t have to worry about getting her “approval” for a work/fishing trip in the middle of the week.
On Wednesday late afternoon we arrived in Charlie’s driveway just outside of Harkers Island, and his wife Sandy greeted us with a special kind of apple pie to enjoy on the boat. We played a little ball with “Sweet Pea,” Charlie’s Miniature Schnauzer, and then headed up the road to Cedar Island in Charlie’s fishing tackle-cluttered pickup with his Venture bay boat in tow behind us.
Charlie wanted to give Leslie the “Nickel tour,” so we took a couple of turns through Davis, with Charlie pointing out landmarks and yelling out hellos to anyone and everyone within ear shot.
This “old” red drum trip with Leslie went much like other trips of mine with Charlie: we traveled a relatively short distance out of the Cedar Island boat ramp right beside the Ocracoke ferry landing, anchored up, put out six baits, and didn’t have to wait long before a rod bent over and the peeling line announced that we were hooked up with a citation-class red drum.
That night Leslie released the three biggest fish she had ever caught in her life, all red drum ranging from 40-46 inches. She got to hear the drumming noise that big males make as they come over the gunnels. One of her fish, or as Charlie says one of her “feesh,” was a tagged drum, so we’re waiting to hear from NCDMF about the fish’s history.
However, the highlights weren’t limited to just the eight or so red drum we found that evening.
Right after dark and before the near full moon had risen, the stars were strikingly clear and bright in the Pamlico Sound night. There’s very little light pollution in that part of our state, so the sky lights up brilliantly.
Then later we did have some light pollution, as the Marines were doing some kind of shooting exercises on a marsh bank to our southwest. Leslie was the first to point out the light show, asking if it was fireworks. A closer look revealed a couple of helicopters taking turns strafing an island, leaving it ablaze after about an hour or so of bombardment. Not bad entertainment while you pass time on the water checking baits, making bad jokes, and waiting for the next bite.
And all the while, the sounds of Charlie Brown’s big belly laugh echoed through the night until we pulled back into the boat ramp a little before 2:00 am.
Leslie and I, though we are parents of two young kids, have tried to maintain a regular date night, and we’ve had some good ones. Sometimes we go low key (fish tacos, margaritas, and a movie), and sometimes we go upscale (dropping too much money for a single meal at Ruth’s Chris Steak House). Our date night with Charlie Brown, though, has opened up a whole new category of possibilities.
Something tells me I better watch out. I might get bumped from future Guide Time trips and articles, as she definitely looks better than I do in a photo holding up a “feesh.”
