For the fourth year in a row I’ve been fortunate enough to bag work and spend the day on the water chasing redfish with friends. This years exploits were even better than anticipated.
My journey to Oak cHill this year was airborne. I left Orlando Executive around 4:30 in the afternoon planning to meet my great friend, Charlie at a small airport a few miles north of The cHill. I was wheels down at the appointed time and as I taxied up to the ramp, I could see Chaz waiting there with his yellow lab, Sally.
Later in the evening at Charlie’s we feasted on a homemade gumbo and washed it down with cold beer from the Evil Keg-o-rator. While eating we made final plans for the next day’s activities. A Christmas Eve tradition requires planning you know…
As the sun reached over the horizon and basked the shorelines in it’s orange glow, a small group of friends again converged on Charlie’s house. Charlie’s place is almost always the hub of all social activities in Oak cHill. A day of angling adventure requires fuel, biscuits and gravy filled that billet.
With full bellies, everyone set off to find redfish that were eager to consume their offerings. After running a short distance, I found myself poling quietly across a deserted bay looking for signs of life. The surface of the water was smooth as the air hung heavy without a breath of wind. I spotted the first tail reaching above the surface from several hundred yards away. I increased my speed to intersect the happy fish sooner.
A group of three redfish had their noses buried in the muddy bottom rooting about for something to eat. I put the fly into the air and after a false cast or two sent it downrange. The fly landed softly in their midst without causing any of them to sound an alarm and flee. A couple of bumps was all it took to have the fly noticed. One of the fish zeroed in on the combination of yarn and bucktail and gave chase. With a flare of the gills and an abrupt turn about, the redfish secured itself to the end of my line. Christmas never felt so good.
As the morning wore on, the winds that were wrapping around a high pressure system to the east began to increase their speed. I decided it was time to move on.
I eased the skiff along the oyster lined shores of spot number two as the wind pushed me along. Visibility was not the best with wind riffles obscuring the view. Almost as quickly as I saw the first redfish, I saw number 2,3,4,5, and so on. As the school of coppery toned fish parted to flee my presence I slipped an anchor over the side and nestled up tight to an exposed oyster bar. Within minutes I could again see the shadows and flashes of redfish eating on the backside of the next bar. For the next half hour I cast to the bar finding four more fish willing to eat my offering.
With five redfish under my belt for the day I pulled anchor and made a short run to the local waterside joint for lunch with the fellas.
I landed at Executive Airport by mid afternoon, completely satisfied with my 2008 installment of the Christmas Eve tradition…
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