I, DICK MCGONIGLE, TRIP LEADER FOR THE ANNUAL PACK FLOUNDER ADVENTURE, SWEAR THE FOLLOWING IS MOSTLY TRUE.
An almost full moon followed me down to the Texas City Dike end boat ramp, where my old flounder fishing friends met me to help put on one more flounder trip for our PACK brothers. Ten of our members and 3 flounder freak friends of PACK loaded my boat in the calm, crystal clear moonlight before 6 a.m. to storm the north shore of Pelican Island for our shot at some big flounder near the end of this year’s flounder run.
Anticipation was somewhat high considering this years run started early, producing 24 inchers by early November for friends including Ron and Eric of Shipley’s Do-Nuts in Galveston. Parks and Wildlife proclaimed that, except for the south Texas coast, the flounder population made giant strides in recovery the last year. The importance of December first was the limits were now 5 fish. The prior week had been very good to the few fishermen working that muddy abandoned shoreline, producing many fish over 20 inches and hundreds of fat, legal flounder released; a place where for many years up to hundreds of fishermen could take their old limits of 10 on a good late November day.
During the first of two ferry rides to the location, I was thinking of a number of things - like a new member I hadn’t met with the handle “BAD LUCK GUY”. Little did I know that he was going slam the rest of our PACK folks with 14 flounder – on a day with a very difficult bite. No “Bad Luck” there Thomas Keshavarzi! Also, Paul Manley’s handle of “MANIMAL” seemed a bit lite when I learned his love of extreme sports included rodeo and international rugby competition. I was remembering George Watanabe was on the trip last year out of Sea Wolf Park, and that this year might bring a chance at a meat haul instead of a primer on Flounder 101. My old PACK buddy Paul Morris brought my favorite Antone’s Deli poorboys to treat us later – and he brought a 5 gallon water bottle with water and fertilizer to fertilize a VERY–FAMOUS-TO FLOUNDER-FISHERMAN green bush that we thought had perished in Hurricane Ike. I was feeling lucky that my buddy Jack Parkinson, one of our best flounder fisherman, was there to help out, much as he had with me a long time ago. And Dennis “The Patent Office” Balko, aside from being a crack flounder man, is a Coast Guard certified boat captain. And Ray Woodford has rescued me in storms in Louisiana – Pelican Island would be a walk in the park if necessary.
After a 5 minute moon-lit and first light boat ride, we pulled up to the shore to offload the first group of floundermen. Fifteen minutes later I was back with the rest of the guys as a sort of camp site was being set up on the shore. Anchoring off shore to handle the frequent swells from ships passing on the Houston Ship Channel, I slid into waist deep water to find a perfect outgoing tide, green water, and light southeast breezes blocked by the island. Most of the guys were moving east down the shoreline past the Christmas Tree and the green bush to get into THE MUD. For several hours the flounder teased us, took free rides and let go, got off at the net, or worse, did nothing. The consensus was a feast by full moon might have delayed an otherwise great bite on a great outgoing tide, though I wouldn’t have minded seeing a position paper from the flounder on that.
The slippery mud made wading through the tide quite a precarious exercise, as I worked my way down the shoreline toward old friend and new member Scott Ramsey who brought home 3 of the flatfish. I got a 3 lb, 19 incher on a really weak bite and got out of the water to rest my aching back sitting on a 3 foot diameter, wormy looking log. Paul Manley was there, busy re-riggging. Pretty soon George Watanabe hiked down the beach sans pole, explaining that his two fish were twice as many as last year’s PACK trip and he plans to paddle up from Sea Wolf Park 2 ½ miles down the beach in the future.
Fritz Hiser and his wife, Julie, and Dennis Loving arrived in Dennis’ boat just long enough for Dennis to walk in and nail two 18 inch flounders with one cast of a tandem rig. Right after that, Thomas brought in another of his 14 and Scott brought in a fat 17. I watched Julie with a big one on for about a minute before it got off just before the net. Then DoubleDennis tore into a 23 inch flounder that he swears made him tired from wrestling with it while slipping around in the mud - so they left for Bolivar with no luck after that.
Paul Morris, Johnny Barlow and Fred Becvar worked the area west of the green bush where George had his success. There was more and more activity in the camp area as the finicky-bite morning wore on.
By noon we started slogging through the slippery mud to the boat. Thomas kept the first 5 of his 14. Jack P. had released most of his 15 when he felt a REAL BITE. Like a cement block with jaws hitting the end of his line – the old bottom key on the piano. He netted a 24 inch, 6-0 pound flounder. The first thing he said after weighing it was it didn’t quite beat my wife Lisa’s 6-3 she got last year(Lisa was ill at home). Immediately thereafter, I hooked into the fattest 20 inch flounder I’ve seen in a while to add to my 19 that looked half the size.
We ran the boat on shore to load up the first group to go back to the dock. Minus my wade belt, I livened things up by falling off the back of my boat, filling my waders. Having watched a 6 foot 3 inch 80 year old friend almost drown in 2 feet of water at Mosquito Island after a fall from breathable waders allowing air in the feet of the waders, I experienced some of the same problem, needing a helping hand getting up – wade belts are a good thing. After my Antone’s Original poorboy, compliments of Paul Morris, most of the embarrassment was forgotten.
Two shuttles of 10 minutes back to port found no one with enough energy to bet on the afternoon incoming tide, but each of us had thoughts of bottling this perfect weather for future PACK outings. The bite was weak AND slow but 43 flounder found a net – and a few were just short of wall hangers.
Fred Becvar, with his 19, Scott Ramsey and I headed over to my Margaritaville at Virginia Point to clean our fish and flush the boat. As the sun got low on one of the prettiest days of the year we parted promising to do it again – and again.
P.S. I went the next day with my son, Mark, who went through the same slow, finicky bite again with the same moon. After a dry spell, he hooked into a heavy 22 ½ inch sow and made his way to shore to make sure the big thing didn’t get loose. I had a 19 and a 20 in the net on very weak bites while I rested my rod on the do-net to discuss his fish. After 5 minutes I picked up the rod to see a big swirl under my do-net. I was on for a strange ride as it jumped doing flips twice. It almost screwed me into the mud going around in circles. Scaled and gutted before weighing, my future stuffed flounder (crab and shrimp stuffing) went into the freezer at just over 6 pounds and 23 ½ inches – and there’s still a couple of weeks (including a no moon cycle) left to go in the run! See ya out there.
Dick McGonigle, trip leader