The water had changed from clear to a stained green and we could no longer see the fish but everyone on the fishing pier had a stringer out. Most had dead shrimp but the man next to me had live and he soon caught his last one to fill his limit of five.
Now sheephead fishing on the pier is kind of like combat fishing on the Kenai, but at least the fisherman here have some experience and actually get out of the way when you get a fish on. I quickly caught three undersize fish, (here in Texas they must be at least fifteen inches), before I hooked a big one.
Sheephead don’t run like a redfish but instead swim in circles much like a monster bluegill and as this one was huge I had my hands full! Eventually I guided the fish down the walkway to a spot where Dave was able to net the fish. I measured it and it was a little over twenty two inches. Returning to my spot I quickly fought and landed a seventeen inch fish.
Then the big ones moved on me and I couldn’t catch a thing as the little fish as extremely good at stealing bait. It was really frustrating as Pete, Reva, and Dave where all adding keeper sheephead to their stringers. Figuring I must be holding my mouth wrong I tried various smiles, frowns and ebven keeping my mouth shut but nothing seemed to help.
Moving to the other side of the pier I tried placing my bait next to several posts before I was fast onto another twenty two inch fish. Dave again netted it and I quickly filled my limit of five fish. Pete and Reva had already caught their fifth fish and headed back to their truck. Switching to a jig with a chartreuse body I cast for a while but the speckled trout just weren’t there.
A little further out three oyster boats were working an oyster bar and a dolphin pod corralled and the fed on a school of fish. It’s always fun to watch them work as a team as they force the fish into the shallows before almost beaching themselves to feed on the trapped prey.
Meanwhile Dave was catching a fish on every cast but they were all small and it was pretty obvious that he was getting frustrated. His luck suddenly changed and he hooked a twenty inch fish and guided it into my waiting net. Another cast and another keeper and we were filled for the day.
Now everyone on the pier caught their limit, even the ones using dead shrimp and so to say we needed the live bait, would be inaccurate. Still it worked for us and we could finally look forward to a dinner of Renita’s favorite fish! Clear skies
If you read our blob you have probably noticed that our favorite fish changes to whatever we are catching and eating. Heck even a whiting tastes as good as a salmon, at least it does when you don’t have any salmon.