Outdoor Odyssey

One fishing trip, during the early summer of 1979, would change my fishing patterns completely.  My Uncle, George Alvin Pyland, better known as Unkie, Dave Miller, a friend, and I, in my new seventeen foot, deep vee, packing an eighty five horse outboard, were heading in after a morning of fishing around Swan Lake, east of the Galveston Causeway.  

We headed under the big bridges of the Causeway and were preparing to turn east into the channel to the Pleasure Island Bait camp, when Dave said, “Look at those new channel markers going toward Tiki Island and Jones Lake.”  We turned west into the new channel and started a little exploring, not knowing of the changes that it would bring to our fishing.  
Unkie said he had fished Jones Lake once and remembered it being shallow.  Dave said it was new to him, so we followed the new channel markers; bamboo poles with flags on them, stuck into the sandy bottom and cruised under the Tiki Island Bridge.  Tiki Island, at the time, was a new bay home development, and has since grown into a large, up scale community (with permanent channel markers).

Entering lower Jones Lake, we idled the motor and slowly headed toward some low lying islands and reefs that ran southeast to northwest and bisected the main section of the lake.  Two of these islands had small, crude, fishing shacks built up on pilings, very basic accommodations that four years later, in 1983, would be blown away by Hurricane Alicia.  

The lake is not big, probably five square miles.  Not deep, probably five feet at its deepest, but the bottom, in 1979, was studded with live oyster reefs and clumps of grass.  Now, most of the grass is gone but some live reefs still remain.

We headed toward the second island/reef, just about in the middle of the lake, and I said,
“We’ve got some dead shrimp, let’s try a few casts.”    Starting our drift in almost four feet of water, little did I know that my first cast would change my fishing tactics for the next twenty-six years.  

My popping cork hit the water and within a minute, the cork started moving slowly to my right, against the incoming tide, and Unkie said, “It’s a red, give him a second to get the bait in his mouth good.  Now hit him hard!”  Which I did, getting a good set on the small hook, and the red took off, almost spooling my Ambassadeur 5000C that was packed with fifteen pound, line.  

To get some line back, Dave started the boat and the chase was on.  What a fight, long runs, swirls at the top of the water, head shaking, which was really the red trying to rub the hook out of its jaw on the bottom, and finally we got it to the side of the boat and it was too big for the landing net, so Unkie got a good hold behind its gills and heaved it aboard.

Unkie holds up the big redfish, thirty-three inches long and we estimated that it weighed fifteen pounds.  That day I caught one more, red twenty-nine inches long.  This was all before a twenty to twenty-eight inch slot limit was set for the finny battlers.

For the foreseeable future, I was hooked on Jones Lake!

During the spring of 1970, drifting around Greens Cut in Galveston West bay, I caught, at the time, a personal record, 7-1/4 pound, Speckled Trout.  In the late fall of 1991, I tied, or maybe surpassed this feat.

January of that year, our rancher at our Brady deer lease, let us know that he was hiring a foreman and that we would loose our spacious accommodations on his ranch.  I understood  his requirement for a ‘ramrod’ for his 2,000, acre, ranch, but it galled me that after 10 years we were being ‘evicted’.  I’d show him.  I’d just buy my own spread, which I did, but that’s a lot of ‘rest of the stories’.  The end result of the rancher’s decision and my frustration was that on opening day of Quail season, I didn’t have a place to hunt.  Solving the problem was easy, I’d just go fishing!

Just after sun up, the last weekend in October found my Son, Randy, his
friend, Doug and I drifting toward a shell island in Jones Lake.  There
was a light wind blowing from the north and the tide, that just
changed, was rushing in, and wouldn’t be high until well past mid
morning.  Spotting a shrimp hopping on the top of the water, Randy
looped a cast, a shrimp under a weighted popping cork, and was rewarded
with a solid strike, a nice Speck and the fight was on.

Many
times, foraging fish will drive Shrimp to the surface, causing the
Shrimp to hop around trying to escape the hungry predators.  When Sea
Gulls spot these tell tale dimples in the water they rush over to
inhale the hapless Shrimp.  A well placed, cast usually results in a
savage strike from a Speck or Red.

Randy’s fish was netted and
put in the cooler and Doug and I, both with fish on, soon boxed our own
Specks. The action slowed and we moved out into the lake to start a new
drift and about 200 yards ahead Randy spotted 3 Gulls circling what
must be fish ‘on’ shrimp and a closer inspection showed 2 birds
floating on the water, another sure sign of fish.

Cutting back
the throttle, we eased toward the birds and randy and Doug let go with
two long casts and started vigorously popping and retrieving their
baits, and bam, bam, two hard hits.  Under these birds there was a nice
school of Specks and for the next few minutes we thinned their
numbers.  The fast and furious action ended and admiring our almost
full cooler we decided we’d try one more spot and maybe try to pick up
a couple of Reds.

Easing several hundred yards towards a
channel marker, we started our drift over a hard shell bottom.  If a
Red and a Shrimp were around, the prey couldn’t burrow in the mud and
would be inhaled by the Red.  

Casting toward the channel
marker, and only keeping my line tight, I let my rig sit for several
minutes and didn’t pop it.  Then one pop of the cork and it disappeared
and I felt the weight of a very nice fish.  The fish made a long run
and I couldn’t tell if it was a Speck or Red,, until, a long way out
from the boat, it started to circle us.  This tactic is reserved for
big Trout and after a long, spirited fight, Randy slipped the net under
the monster Speck.

The Trout was shining, with the black spots
seeming as big as dimes.  It was a beauty laying in the net on the
bottom of the boat, spent from its loosing fight and I noticed one egg
had slipped out of the fish’s vent and right away, as I carefully
measured her, I told Randy, “Slip the net and fish back into the
water.  We’re letting her go!”

It wasn’t long before I gently
removed the fish from the net and it swam off.  In our cooler we had
enough for several ‘messes’ and we were happy that this big one, that
measured over 28 inches and probably weighed well over seven pounds,
would be free to spawn for the second time that year!

By April 2005, after working for over forty years, I figured I had had about all the fun I could stand so I decided to retire on May 1, to my ranch in Goldthwaite, Texas. Months before my retirement I even planted a garden and some peach trees, one of my “gifts” being a very green thumb!

Layla had moved to Goldthwaite and was managing the construction of our new ranch house, so after my official retirement date, I got busy and put our Bayou Vista bay house and twenty-two foot, boat on the market and sold our home to the first person who looked at it.

A back yard view of our Bayou Vista House.

A week later the homebuyer’s nephew purchased my boat.

Prior to turning over the boat keys to its new owner, I took one last trip into Jones Lake and it paid off with three nice Red’s, 21, 23 and 26 inches long. Releasing the fish I thought of all the memories, fun and excitement I have had in my over, fifty year relationship with the Gulf coast and a twang of regret flashed through my mind that it was over.

But, it was the time in my life to do other things and enjoy my retirement.

Jim Buck and I had been planning a fishing trip for several months. Both of our jobs, old guys like us should have already retired, required us to be on site and available, so days off were scarce. Brad had returned from a tour in Korea and had transferred into the First Cavalry Division and they were training for a bout with the aggressors at Ft. Irwin, Cal. At that time Iraq was being fumbled by the U.N Inspectors.

Brad called and said that he has this coming Friday off and so did the kids and he would like to take his son, Bradley, salt water fishing. Bradley is thirteen and had fished with me several times. I quickly said OK and called Jim and he said that since his Nephew and Great Nephew would be there, he would make time to go this Friday. The trip was on.

By April 2005, after working for over forty years, I figured I had had about all the fun I could stand so I decided to retire on May 1, to my ranch in Goldthwaite, Texas.  Months before my retirement I even planted a garden and some peach trees, one of my “gifts” being a very green thumb!

Layla had moved to Goldthwaite and was managing the construction of our new ranch house, so after my official retirement date, I got busy and put our Bayou Vista bay house and twenty-two foot, boat on the market and sold our home to the first person who looked at it.  She would take possession on June 15. A week later the homebuyer’s nephew purchased my boat.  

The first week of June, prior to turning over the boat keys to its new owner, I took one last trip into Jones Lake and it paid off with three nice Red’s, 21, 23 and 26 inches long.  Releasing the fish I thought of all the memories, fun and excitement I have had in my over, fifty year relationship with the Gulf coast and a twang of regret flashed through my mind that it was over.  

But, it was the time in my life to do other things and enjoy my retirement!

Three years ago today, I took my last fishing trip into West Galveston Bay and Jones Lake, and except for some regrets (at the time), I had a rewarding trip!

By April 2005, after working for over forty years, I figured I had had about all the fun I could stand so I decided to retire on May 1, to my ranch in Goldthwaite, Texas.  Months before my retirement I had even planted a garden and some peach trees, one of my “gifts” being a very green thumb!

Layla had moved to Goldthwaite and was managing the construction of our new ranch house, so after my official retirement date, I got busy and put our Bayou Vista bay house and twenty-two foot, boat on the market and sold our home to the first person who looked at it.  A week later the homebuyer’s nephew purchased my boat.  

June 1, prior to turning over the boat keys to its new owner, I took one last trip into Jones Lake and it paid off with three nice Red’s, 21, 23 and 26 inches long.  Releasing the fish I thought of all the memories, fun and excitement I have had in my over, fifty year relationship with the Gulf Coast and a twang of regret flashed through my mind that it was over.  

But, it was the time in my life to do other things and enjoy my retirement.

During an early fall fishing trip, Mike Mitchell, my son-in-law, and I were fishing in Jones Lake when we noticed a serious looking storm approaching from the northeast. We hurried in from the Lake and putted, a 5 MPH speed limit in the canals, around to our house and I got out and hooked the trailer to the Jeep, while Mike putted back around to the boat ramp at Louie’s Bait Camp.

A more recent picture of my Wife, Layla, the wonder Dog, Spike, our 1982, Jeep Scrambler, and with the old ranch house, now my office, in the background.

Several other anglers were in line and waiting their turn to retrieve their boats and I was fourth in line. Just sitting there and looking at this storm racing toward us, I knew from experience that it would get us before we got the boat on the trailer.

One fishing trip, in the early summer of 1979, would change my fishing patterns completely. My Uncle, George Alvin Pyland, Uncle Gus or Unkie, Dave Miller, a friend, and I, in my new seventeen foot, deep vee, with a eighty five horsepower outboard motor, were heading in after a morning of fishing around Swan Lake, east of the Galveston Causeway.

Unkie and my big Redfish!

We headed under the big bridges of the Galveston Causeway and I was preparing to turn east into the channel to the Pleasure Island Bait camp, when Dave said, “Look at those new channel markers going toward Tiki Island and Jones Lake.” We turned west into the new channel and began a little exploring.