Caught my first relatively big fish off the surf this evening. Previous outings to Dam Neck Navy Base had only resulted in 8 inch Whiting.
This evening I switched to cut squid instead of frozen cut fish - all purchased at Walmart's fine selection of frozen bait.
The evening was slow with no bites. Heavy seaweed kept dragging the lines and fooling me as false strikes. The tide was at its lowest - purportedly the worst time for fishing. But the weather was great, the water warm and the sand soft.
The family came with me to the beach. They chased crabs, threw sand, and watched me clean weeds of the lines for the first hour or so. They finally got bored and went for a walk on the windswept beach. Few beachcombers were out this evening.
Rip currents from the offshore storm pulled the heavily weighted poles down - I forgot my pole holders at home! I glance over and my far left pole had fallen into the sand again! Dang it! A second glance over and the pole with reel were being dragged into the surf! I reach into the foam to where I last saw it dive.
Fight's on! I grab the pole and feel the weight of a living creature fighting my pull! The reel jams from sand as it was dragged through four feet of beach before it disappeared into the surf. I had previous problems with the reel and through home repair thought it was fixed.
The beast pulls hard as I quickly troubleshoot and perform immediate action on the reel. The drag sings as she rushes to deep water. For the next few minutes the reel alternates between function and failure. I am forced to run away from the waterline to drag her in and quickly reel in the slack as I run back into the surf. The water churns as I can begin to see the fish close with the shore. In the in-between moments I wave frantically at my family to get their attention. The distance, wind, and crashing waves makes it hard for them to hear. Finally, Granny sees me and they all come running.
I pull her in. She is beautiful - a Red Drum as long as my arm.
There is a brief debate on catch and release. We decide to catch and eat at the urging of Lil. Tourists come to inspect the fish. Fish stories from strangers come without solicitation. Kids disburse as I conduct a field cleaning right on the beach. A small crab is found half-digested in its stomach. The rest goes into a hole in the surf zone.
Red Drum recipe: http://www.recipezaar.com/187490
This evening I switched to cut squid instead of frozen cut fish - all purchased at Walmart's fine selection of frozen bait.
The evening was slow with no bites. Heavy seaweed kept dragging the lines and fooling me as false strikes. The tide was at its lowest - purportedly the worst time for fishing. But the weather was great, the water warm and the sand soft.
The family came with me to the beach. They chased crabs, threw sand, and watched me clean weeds of the lines for the first hour or so. They finally got bored and went for a walk on the windswept beach. Few beachcombers were out this evening.
Rip currents from the offshore storm pulled the heavily weighted poles down - I forgot my pole holders at home! I glance over and my far left pole had fallen into the sand again! Dang it! A second glance over and the pole with reel were being dragged into the surf! I reach into the foam to where I last saw it dive.
Fight's on! I grab the pole and feel the weight of a living creature fighting my pull! The reel jams from sand as it was dragged through four feet of beach before it disappeared into the surf. I had previous problems with the reel and through home repair thought it was fixed.
The beast pulls hard as I quickly troubleshoot and perform immediate action on the reel. The drag sings as she rushes to deep water. For the next few minutes the reel alternates between function and failure. I am forced to run away from the waterline to drag her in and quickly reel in the slack as I run back into the surf. The water churns as I can begin to see the fish close with the shore. In the in-between moments I wave frantically at my family to get their attention. The distance, wind, and crashing waves makes it hard for them to hear. Finally, Granny sees me and they all come running.
I pull her in. She is beautiful - a Red Drum as long as my arm.
There is a brief debate on catch and release. We decide to catch and eat at the urging of Lil. Tourists come to inspect the fish. Fish stories from strangers come without solicitation. Kids disburse as I conduct a field cleaning right on the beach. A small crab is found half-digested in its stomach. The rest goes into a hole in the surf zone.
Red Drum recipe: http://www.recipezaar.com/187490
Had the drum for dinner the next night. Problems (of course) with the grill. Low heat for a while until I disconnected the tank and restarted. 
So the fish was not seared but slow cooked. Tasted great. Pleasure to eat what you catch. Great feeling relative to the fish under plastic at Walmart - all frozen weeks ago after being caught and shipped from the Philippines.
