Trip Report: 6:30 am Friday at Clark’s Marina one of the PACK participants asks Capt. Henry: “How long have the winds been blowing like this?” Capt. Henry, a tall lanky guy with starched jeans replies, “Since Christmas”. PACK guy, “Wow, when do you think the winds will lay down?” “September maybe” came the answer without a grin. The forecast called for breezy and breezy was order of the day except for a few hours on Saturday.
Thursday, May 14th, a half dozen or more PACK fishermen trickled into Port O’Connor, checking out each other’s nightly accommodations, before heading over to Cathy’s for a seafood dinner. Jim, Barry, Don and Buzz were staying at the lovely Tarpon Inn, which had a distinctive not so lovely musty smell that took some getting used to. Some of us booked rooms at the querky and artsy fresh smelling Poco Loco Lodge. A perfect place to hang out with their outdoor grilling area and cabana style sitting areas. A pool would have made it perfect.
Capt Henry and Capt Bob arrived on time for us to load out at 6:30 am and head out of the marina by 7. They arrived back in about an hour to take the second group out. In all they transported 13 of us. The ride across the bay was dry and pleasant.
The PACK armada did include three personal motor boats carrying another seven guys and their yaks. We had two guests and a few new faces on this trip. Jason (Sightcast) went commando and put in at Clarks at 3:30 am and paddled out to Lighthouse Cove to rendezvous with Bruce, fishing along the way. Jason has his own story to tell of how he helped a vet attending the “Warrior Weekend” being hosted in POC.
In no time at all camp sites and shelters were claimed and we all began securing tents to ride out the coastal squalls known to hit the island this time of year. Boats were on the water before noon, to look for fish. Lighthouse cove to the right, Pringle Lake and Army Hole to the left. The reports I heard included mostly dink trout and rat reds. I got to stalk some tailing reds on a shallow flat, bonefish style, but they didn’t like the chartreuse jig I was throwing. Back to camp, for dinner.
A visit to the each site revealed a variety of campground meals. Grilled steaks, chicken, sausage, asparagus, mushrooms, and Brad. V’s twice-cooked stuffed baked potato. A few made out just fine with tuna fish and crackers. After the dishes were cleaned, we sat around the imaginary campfire to cut up and tell jokes, mostly one each other, whether they were on the trip or not. A few liquid refreshments were available. Armchair astronomers were admiring the Bid Dipper and other constellations. D.King: “ Oh, is that the Milky Way up there?” Brad V. “No, that’s a Mars Bar”. That one got a few laughs.
A combination of a 5-year drought and a steady SE breeze meant no mosquito’s or other biting things. We were only visited once at 3 am by a lone coyote with a pathetic call. Feral hogs had been rooting on the shoreline a day before we landed. I’m sure they were too wary to come back that night.
Camp broke slowly Saturday morning. Quite a few fishermen were strung out along the island’s northern shoreline on the right going towards Lighthouse Cove. I’m sure many went SW to revisit Pringle Lake. The water was fairly clear, especially over the areas with a lot of Widgeon Grass. I saw a lot sheephead and mullet but not a lot of small bait. The mid day temperatures were a mild 86 degrees. A few us just napped in the mid afternoon.
In the late afternoon, the winds began to lay down, but darkness loomed towards the NW. VHF radio’s tuned to Channel 3 voiced grave reports of a slow moving front, dumping 3-4 inches of rain, scheduled to hit the coast at about 6:30 pm. Another quick check on the tents and loose gear. Now with water flattened out, bait were seen leaping from the jaws of trout and flounder. Buzz and others went back out on the flats in front of the campground. Will stuck a nice flounder and strung that one up. Buzz landed a good trout that he kindly donated to the frying pan. Bob brought in a very respectable red that registered in the top end of the slot. Bruce broke out the electric filet knife to make short work of the specks his crew caught. I saw Joel, take quite a few happy fisherman photos.
Donald, who was getting bored with just hanging out decided to cast a bit in the boat basin. Three or four fish later and everyone is casting around the docks. I landed a juvi’ flounder that was released to make more flounder. That darkness to the NW was getting… well, darker. The winds stopped and then turned distinctly NW with a bit of a chill. Squalls were seen on the horizon, mostly to the south, but we dodged the rain and hail. With that over, it was time to fry fish. There’s nothing like fried trout and redfish, just minutes out of the water. Too full to eat any more fish, too tired to stay up late, and after some brief visits around camp it was off to the tents.
The wind that brought the front, stayed all night and into the morning. The bay was all white caps. Bruce and crew boated over to Pringle to fish it one more time. I didn’t get a report, I’ll look for his posting on the forum. Our shuttle arrived two hours early at our request to break camp without trying for fish one more time. To sum it up and as Ken Jennings would say: “Fish were caught, a great time was had by all”. The kayaking in the immediate area pleasant, especially the route to Sunday Beach and the marsh to Pringle Lake. Thanks to everyone for their readiness, sharing meals, a glass or two, and willingness to help load the boats. I had a blast and I think the everyone enjoyed the time away from everyday stresses back in town. Chris