The shack nasties got me on Saturday, so the boat was getting wet Sunday regardless of the breeze. It was worth it--I was the only guy launching at a "public knowledge" spot which is damn rare on a weekend morning. The reds held tight to shore, and so did I to get out of the wind. Weren't too many fish around, but the ones there were hungry. Sprint six feet and eat the fly as soon as it lands hungry. Fight their schoolmates to get there first hungry. A slider got follows and then refusals; a tan kwan a few feet ahead of a shoreline crawler got demolished.
I got the best visuals on strikes I've ever had Sunday. Shoreline crawlers in 4" water, max, in clear water--watch him quiver and light up when he sees the fly, watch him suck it down, watch him shake his head when he realizes he messed up. This scene repeated itself four times over a few hours on a day where NOAA issued a small craft advisory.
I took no pictures. This may or may not have happened.
Sunday
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