Every year Bayou Coast Kayak Fishing Club hosts the Fall n Tide fishing tournament down in Venice, La. The boundaries are everything south of the Belle Chase tunnel, and you must launch from Hwy 23. It is a Cajun Slam format which means to win the grand prize, you must catch a slot redfish, 12"+ trout and flounder.
The captains meeting was held at Cypress Cove Marina, Friday night at 7 PM. After the meeting, I was able to pick a few people's brains on some info on the current fishing situations, and almost everyone said that it was going to be a tough day tomorrow, as there was no water to be found, and the water that you could find, was super muddy. I told everyone that my plan was to hit the wagon wheel, as I did 2 years prior. Everyone laughed at me and my horrible decision. We stayed up a little later sharing fish stories and enjoying a few adult beverages, but the 5 AM wake up for me, and 2 AM wake up that others had, meant it wasn't going to be a late night.
Sleeping in my truck to save a few bucks meant I was able to wake up at 4 AM without having the alarm go off. The reports of low water, and not having fished this area for 2 years, I decided to wait until 5:30 to launch the boat, so I'd have a little bit of light. I launched on Tidewater road by some rocks, and headed north. Each paddle stroke as I'm leaving the launch, I'm hitting the bottom with my paddle. Little did I know that this was going to come back and haunt me. My plan was to get into the wagon wheel and hide from the wind, which was blowing 10-15 knots from the northeast prior to the sun coming up, and was only going to get worse as the day went on. Plans almost never work with me, and kayak fishing. I head deeper into the wheel, expecting the canals that I see on the GPS, to go all the way through to where my destination is. They don't. Small dams have been built in most of them to stop the movement of water and further erosion.
I continue to paddle to the north side of the wheel where I finally come to a cut that has a small pond draining into it. I see some commotion near the shoreline, and suspect its a redfish, but it could also be caused by a gar. Either way, I'd rather try to catch a good fish, and catch trash, than assume its a trash fish, and not catch a good one. I started off by throwing a Seein' spots inline spinner, tipped with a black and chartreuse Matrix Shad. No luck, and that was confusing to me, because a Seein' Spots is my go-to lure. With that, I thought even more so, that the swirls were caused by a gar. I didnt want to give up on it yet, so I changed to a Vudu shrimp under a cork, with hopes of the dirty water preventing the fish from seeing the lure, to having to hear the lure. BINGO! that was the trick. After a few casts, my cork drops underwater, and the fight is on. He is putting up a good fight, and all I can think of is, "Please be under 27, please be under 27." I finally net the fish, make sure I get the fish grip on him, and pull the measuring board out. 26" even. Ill take it. With conditions being as tough as they were, I knew other people would be having a bad day too, so into the box he goes. I stayed at that spot for another 15 min before I started heading into some main canals looking for a flounder.
Flounder are quite mythical creatures, and I'm pretty sure it takes being a fish whisperer to consistently catch one. I'm not that guy. 2 hours of dragging the bottom and catching several blades of marsh grass, I gave up on the flounder, knowing I didn't have time to pick up, relocate, and find a trout. I decided my best bet would be to find some more reds, and just go for the largest red. There was a pond that had some water moving through it, and a few splashes that I noticed while looking for the flounder, so as I aim my focus into the pond, I keep my eyes peeled, and see so many good signs of reds. Swirls like the ones from the last red, tails, and bait jumping out of the water. I set the stake out pole at the entrance of the pond with the wind to my back. Using the wind to my advantage, I cast my Vudu out what seemed like 100 yards. A few pops of the cork, and it disappears, heck yes! My drag slowly peels off, but nothing too serious, so I know its not a monster. About 19 inches, perfect for the grill, but this isn't fishing for food, I've got a tourney to win. Back in the water he goes. I see more swirls coming from another grass patch, as I throw to it, the wind catches the bait and shoots me off about 45 degrees of where I was aiming. Center of the pond, shucks. As soon as the cork hit the water, it was under, I must have landed right on the fish. I catch a few more at this spot, as well as a 27 5/8 red, which I stuck in the box with hopes of some shrinking in the ice water.
By noon, I've been asked by 3 boats if I need help, but knowing that would give me the DQ, I manned up and started paddling back. While in the wagon wheel, I had the current in my favor, but the wind was never helpful. I popped out by a small gas platform which is where I entered the wheel, but this time, I had to get 300-400 yards off the bank to find water deep enough to paddle. The wind is 15-20 knots from the east now, and I've got to head almost due south to get back to the truck. A crosswind like that is no joke. Breaks were taken, and curse words were said. That paddle was tough! The last 100 yards I could see where another kayaker had dredged through to get back to their vehicle, and I knew I was in for a struggle. There was approximately 1 inch of water and 100 yards to go.
My 1st thought was to throw my anchor, and p-=ull myself to it, but its a grappling hook, and it doesn't hold in soft mud very well. 2nd plan of attack: get out and try to walk through the mud, while sliding the yak. 1 half step, and the mud is up to my knee. That wont work. Plan "C" is just a combination of doing the humptydumpty, rocking back and forth to form a hole in the mud for the boat to float, and push pole with the paddle. Luckily that was the last plan i needed. One other club member and his wife had to use the Mack daddy plan of all plans. Call 911 and get an air-boat for the rescue. Not saying any names, but he received the dogris award. Congrats!
Weigh in starts for 3 PM-4. I'm number 3, and I watch our weigh master do a back breaking chiropractic number on my redfish to see if he could stretch it to 27. The fish came in at 26.5" and weighing in at 8.93 lbs. I knew this was a solid weight, but had no idea if it was going to be enough for 1st. The fish cleaner never showed up, so at the last minute, we had 5 of us that stepped up to clean the fish caught to feed the anglers. Most people said that their day of fishing was tough, and very few slams were caught, with 4th-7th being 2 fish stringers.
As the results come in, and awards are passed out, I ended up taking home 1st place biggest red, and Eric Stacey got the 2nd largest red with 8.33 lbs. The 1st place Cajun Slam was caught by a visitor from Romania. His skills and hard work paid off, and he was able to take the PA rodeo ride at the end of the night. Congrats to everyone that participated, and a HUGE thank you to BCKFC for holding the event.
$200, and some sort of major award
Massey's Teammate Eric Muhoberac and I. He got 1st place trout.
The aftermath of getting suck, and having to get myself out.
