Go figure. After a few more casts and no more takers I move on. Along the mangroves I got out of the yak and started to wade with yak in tow. The wind was providing only a 20’ sight window up against the shore. Just enough to work with, there would only be short casts today. My pace was slow due to the intermittent clouds and sun. After a while I approached a small batch of oysters and spotted a red, nose to shell and crabbin’ with a quick load of the rod the fly was off and landed 2’ off the nose. The fish acknowledged the site of the crab with a wave of the tail, eased over and picked it up to crush it. I felt the line tick and set the hook, fish on! It was more like waking a drunken bear, slow at first and then the fight was on. After wrestling the 22" fish with the 6 wt I had it to hand. The crab was hooked just outside the crushers, with a quick pop of the finger the barbless crab was out and this red was going home for dinner.
I kept wading the shore in pursuit of the sheepshead and after 15 more minutes of wading, there one was with red a in tow. Every time that sheepshead stopped the red would rush over and push it out of the way. I gave the sheepie a good lead and dropped the fly 3’ out. The sheep approached it, tipped up and here comes the red, like a bull dog, the sheep blew out, the red tipped up and the line went tick, I set the hook and fish on! This one had shoulders and it was all that 6 wt could do to keep up. After a while the 27” red was at hand and she was thick in the head and shoulders. I popped out the crab and slipped her back in. And kept wading. This time a big sheep, well over 20” was easing my way I flicked the fly 3’ in front and as she approached she tipped up on it, stared at it for to long and did not like my workmanship and moved on, I was refused on this and 4 other sheeps with this style crab but I have some more ideas for realism.
On the last 50 yds of shore there is one last bar. As I was finishing my wade along the bar what I thought was a big oyster encrusted rock, moved its pectoral fin! A quick flick and the fly landed off to the left, to far out, I repositioned and dropped it on the nose. Doh! But she didn’t spook, the fly drifted down and rest on the bottom for a minute or so, I moved it a gnats ars. She leaned forward and picked it up, the line went tick, and Fish on! This was another brute with shoulders, after wrestling for a while I had the red at hand, popped out the fly and slipped her back into the water. What a beautiful day! And not another soul on the water.
