(Venice, LA) - Apparently experience pays off in pursuit of fish. After being essentially shut out until the very end of day one of the Great Fishing Expedition, day two was decidely different. The reluctant angler nabbed the first fish of the morning. It wasn't a lunker, but it was a keeper: a speckled trout.
When the day was done, I had proudly bagged my legal limit of redfish and admittedly enjoyed a certain level of satisfaction.
Most of the guys I'm with are hard-core fisherman. for them, it's all about the fish. For me, at least half the fun was simply being someplace I hadn't been before and seeing things I don't see every day. For instance, in our part of the state you just don't run into many giant pelicans moseying by on the water.
My friend Andrew invited me on this trip and I'm glad I came. With the exception of a couple of little flare-ups (happily none involving me) everyone has gotten along well and there has been some unabashed hilarity along the way. A few of the photos turned out nicely, too. Some of the scenery was kind of dramatic. 
To answer the burning question: yes, I'd come again, as long as someone is around to perform the operational aspects of a trip of this magnitude. Fishing is hard work. The weather didn't help. It was preposterously hot out there both days. I'm now a firm believer in SPF 70, because despite two full days out on the water I'm miraculously NOT sunburned. I am dog tired, though. It's a good tired.
The stories are true, too. I haven't earned enough fishing credibility to tell a good, big lie yet. It was fun hangin' with the boys. 
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Adventure Upon the Sea
Friday, June 19, 2009
Yes, I Went Fishing
(Venice, LA) - Despite being a lifelong resident of Louisiana, until today I had never been to the southernmost part of the state. That's because it's the Mississippi River delta, which of course is mostly water with a little marshland thrown in to keep things interesting. Having never really been Mr. Outdoors, there's been no reason to make the trip. That has all changed. At the crack of dawn, I joined a group of guys on the water in a great manly quest for redfish and speckled trout.
The effort was epic. To the dismay of my boy Andrew, who assembled the crew, the fish were not cooperating out there in the rivers, bays and bayous which dot the delta. Catfish were easy to come by but nobody wanted those.
This first weekend of summer has been true to its nature: stiflingly hot, almost oppressive. Things were going so slowly that a few of the fishing faithful were becoming discouraged.
Finally, blessfully, late in the day the redfish starting biting...for everyone except me. It was understood going into this trip that I know nothing about fishing. That was part of the plan. 
Andrew feels a need to offer me the opportunity to participate in activiities which are traditional for the typical southern male. Hence, a weekend fishing trip.
I quickly learned that fishing at this level requires a combination of art, science, skill and luck. I have none of those. My companions were patient with me, occasionally amused by my angling ineptitude. Finally, perseverance paid off. I hooked a big redfish.
This was a huge moment because everybody else had already landed at least one really big fish.
Hungry, overheated and exhausted, we decided the time was right to set a course for dry land. Go out on top. For me, catching a fish was better than not catching one but I would have been okay if it hadn't happened for me. I had my camera along and this weekend adventure serves me much better as a giant photo op.
