Sneaky Fishing

Begin the New Year red-eyed and seeing specks with a stone cold sober approach to red drum and speckled trout.

The trout moved along the edge of the dropoff just out from the bank, and we sometimes saw a single, pair or small group of fish as they flashed in the current. The problem was usually by the time we had seen them, they had seen us, and their priority immediately switched from lethargically feeding to abrupt departure.

“Even when everything is going their way, speckled trout are notoriously spooky and here in the winter, they are even more so,” Capt. Stuart Caulder said. “Once the water cools much of the sediment it is carrying falls out and it gets clear.

“In this area, there’s very little runoff and the feeder creeks are short and small, so it gets even more clear than in other areas.

“We’re within a mile of the inlet, and it’s clear enough we can see 6 feet or more. During the summer we’d be lucky to see 2 feet.

“Just remember — if we can see them they’ve probably already seen us and likely won’t bite. We’ll do some sight fishing to reds later after it warms up a little.”

It was early January and Caulder (Gold Leader Guide Service, (910) 264-2674, www.GoldLeaderFishing.com, stu@goldleaderfishing.com) was fishing some of the creeks north of Wrightsville Beach and between the Intracoastal Waterway and the coastal islands.

The previous night hadn’t been too cold; the growing sun was a good omen this clear and rapidly-warming day.

Idling his Triton LTS bay boat through the vacant no-wake zone at Wrightsville Beach, Caulder noted the rare occasions when he’s the only boat moving through this typically congested area.

“I get to see it more than most people, but I’m one of the few guides who fish here all winter,” Caulder said. “We’re fortunate to have some fish — unless the weather gets really bad. But not many folks want to venture out when the morning are cold.

“My winter charters are usually pretty serious fishermen, and they enjoy catching fish. We should catch some trout on the falling tide this morning, then find some reds after it warms up a bit.”

After a short but chilly run north up the Intracoastal Waterway, Caulder approached the mouth of a small creek. As we neared the creek’s mouth, he switched off his quiet Suzuki four-stroke outboard he said was too loud to approach the trout. He eased his Minn Kota trolling motor over the bow.

“Usually the trout are back in this creek a ways, where it joins another creek and there is a deep dropoff near the bank, but they could be anywhere,” Caulder said. “If we run in on them quickly, we could spook them and never see them again, so we’ll let the tide ease us back and not take that chance.”

We crept through the creek with the moving tide, Caulder only occasionally using the trolling motor to keep us off the bank. Our anticipation was steadily rising as we caught glimpses of trout already moving along the bank.

Once at his chosen location, Caulder eased the anchor over the side, being especially careful not to create a splash or allow the chain or shank to clank on the side of the boat.

As we silently swung on the anchor, he pointed out the dropoff’s shadow where the two creeks merged. The idea was to cast to the upcurrent edge of the dropoff and allow the grub to be swept along the bottom.

Several casts later the sensation of a light tap raced up the line and through my rod. Leaning back, I struck and missed.

“You got a hit, didn’t you?” Caulder said. “It should have been just a stop in your grub’s drift and a light bump.

“One of the reasons I use the Power Pro line is you can feel bites you probably wouldn’t with mono. Another is its smaller diameter doesn’t alter the drift and your bait moves slower and more natural.”

As he finished talking, Caulder sensed a trout’s tap and set the hook. The speck ran a little but not long; Caulder quickly led the fish to the boat. Cradling it easily, he posed for a photograph then eased the fish into the water. We watched it sprint away.

The trout were moving at the edge of our casting range, and Caulder was afraid to move closer for fear of scaring them into not biting. Being barely able to reach the strike zone was becoming slightly frustrating so he pulled the anchor; we drifted slightly downstream. Caulder eased the boat to the bank; we got out and walked upstream on the opposite side to find easier casting range.

This decision proved fruitful and once able to better reach the strike zone, activity increased. It wasn’t an early November bite, but the trout were feeding steadily enough to make things interesting.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the tide began to slow. With this the trout bite rapidly tapered.

While he was removing another layer of clothing, Caulder said the specks were through for several hours. But the day had warmed enough we should pay a visit to where red drum had been holding for the past few days and see if they were ready to feed.

After our walk to the boat, I felt the need to remove a sweatshirt and cool a bit. The January sunshine was bright and clear and lightly warming my face.

Before moving the boat, Caulder switched the chartreuse-back white glitter-belly, DOA C.A.L shad-tail grubs we’d been using to solid white (pearl) grubs. He said we might find the drum anywhere along the way and wanted to not change lures after seeing fish and risk spooking them.

As we eased the boat off the bank, Caulder said we’d be looking for drum at the flats near junctions in the creek and along the edges of the Intracoastal Waterway — if we got that far without finding fish. Caulder said drum have a better tolerance for colder water than trout but are sluggish early in the morning. The water would need to warm a few degrees to awaken the reds’ feeding instinct. But Caulder said he had caught red drum in water as cold as 46 degrees.

While we were easing along, we kept a sharp lookout all around for the drum. Caulder said they could be almost anywhere but usually showed noticeable preference for the bank or flat that had been in the sun the longest.

Caulder said drum would be in shallow water, warming in the sun. He said they usually preferred depths of waist-deep or less, and a larger school would often create a noticeable red area in the water. He said anglers occasionally saw reds moving — their travels sometimes create an easily recognized wake or “push” in the water.

We didn’t find any drum as we worked our way out of the creeks that morning, but just a couple of hundred yards down the Intracoastal Waterway we found a nice school at the mouth of a small creek that fed into a flat. We were easing along, barely on plane, and Caulder was explaining why this particular creek would be a good place to look. Then the school moved.

We didn’t spook them, but something caused them to race across the flat; the “push” they created gave them away.

“Push” is the word Caulder used to describe the water’s reaction to the mass movement of the school of drum. The “push” was almost like a small set of waves, but unlike the wake created when a single drum moves in shallow water. It was a noticeable set of waves, several inches high.

After racing across the flat, the reds settled down at the far edge. With our polarized glasses, which Caulder said are a must for this kind of fishing, we could see a red tint in the water. The water here wasn’t as clear as it had been in the creek earlier, and we couldn’t make out individual fish, but it worked in our favor as they couldn’t see us either.

Caulder immediately stopped the outboard and moved forward to drop the trolling motor propeller into the water.

As he eased us toward the school and within casting range, he planned our attack. After assuring I knew where the school was resting, Caulder instructed me to cast just to the right of them and said he would work the left edge.

“We don’t want to cast into the middle and risk a running fish breaking them up completely,” he said. “If we can work the edges and not break up the school, we should be able to catch several before they get too wary.

“Once your bait lands, you don’t have to move it much to get their attention. With this braided line, you can just keep the line tight and wiggle your rod tip to make the bait’s tail twitch. That’s about all the motion you want. If the bait moves too fast or too much, they may not bother to chase it.”

By this time we were within casting range and Caulder said to let fly. Our baits landed just a split-second apart and didn’t spook the school. In only a few seconds, Caulder excitedly announced he was hooked up and my strike came as he was speaking.

Initially the drum bolted away from the school, just as we’d hoped. About halfway to the boat, they reversed directions and our lines crossed momentarily. A quick high-low two-step on the bow allowed us to clear the lines, but just as we relaxed, they crossed again.

This time our do-se-do brought us back to our original positions. For being in such cold water, these drum were running much harder than the trout earlier in the day.

After another minute or so, this pair of drum tired and allowed us to lead them to the boat. We paused just a few seconds to admire them, then quickly released them.

Caulder turned the trolling motor to get us back in position for another set of casts.

We made two more successful approaches to the school before one of the hooked drum ran through and scattered his friends. After waiting a few minutes for them to regroup and they didn’t, Caulder asked if I wanted to look for another school of drum or head to one of the waterside restaurants at Wrightsville Beach and get a hot meal.

While I had a warm feeling from such a nice winter fishing trip (and even a light sweat from fighting those feisty reds), I told him we could call it a day and head in for a late lunch.

He had promised some trout in the morning and drum at mid-day and had delivered.

All I had promised was lunch after a successful trip; now it was my turn.