Sorry for being verbose, but this is worth the read.
So, due to several unfortunate turn of events, including inconsiderate inlaws and a sprained foot and ankle, my surf fishing this week was a disaster.
I knew that tides would be somewhat slack on Wednesday and intended to do a lot of family stuff that day. My inlaws had different ideas, apparently. They slacked off and pushed everything into Thursday and Friday and ate up a lot of my fishing opportunities.
I did escape to the jetty for a while late Thursday afternoon. A couple of nice sized Spanish were biting my gotchas and rattletraps, but they bit off my leaders (30lb Maxima, I think) on every hook-up. To add insult to injury, I wouldn't even have the fish landed yet and would already have some of the natives asking me if they could have them.
Later that night, I came off of the Phoenix West waterslide the wrong way with my 3 year old and drove my left foot into the bottom of the pool, leaving me limping for 18 hours or so. Those little waterslides that they have are surprisingly fast. They look like a typical playground slide, but have a firetruck worth of current coming down them. I wasn't the only googan that got a surprise there. Unfortunately, I was more focused on my daughter's safety than my own and hurt myself.
Finally, totally fed up with the trip (or inlaws, really), I drew a line in the sand and decided I was fishing Friday night, come hell or high water. Last year, I found that I love fishing the surf at night. I have to deal with more catfish, but I have found that if I use fresh cut bait (as in catch it and use it as bait immediately), my catch rate for cats drops off dramatically. Sitting on the beach at night with a well stocked cooler, while working bait rods, seems to be one of the best stress relievers that I have found.
Back when I booked the trip, I started putting together gear for the entire family, as they implied that they were all about doing some fishing. My father-in-law had been telling my brother-in-law about how many fish I caught for a year and seemed really interested.
On a whim, I bought a 10ft. Berkley Glowstik rod, as I thought that the kids would get a kick out of it. I took it catfishing one night and it turned out to be a decent chunker, so it definitely found a spot in the car. When it is turned on, it looks like the picture below:
http://www.gulfshorespierfishing.com...tid=4182&stc=1
I got to fishing (and tending to the previously mentioned stocked cooler) around 9:00 PM. I caught whiting, hardtails and blues (and of course, hardheads), on shrimp, fleas, and fishbites. I also kept soaking chunks of cut, both in the first trough, as well as past the first bar, in hopes of a nice red.
The glowing rod was an interesting conversation piece with the after-dinner crowd. I had people actually get mad because they had walked nearly a mile down the beach to see what it was. I had several others take pictures of it. It was funny to me that these folks were captivated by a $50 rod off of Amazon, and paid no attention to the two spiked next to it that cost a small fortune.
Around midnight, my cooler was not nearly as well stocked as it once was and I was getting a little bored with the smaller fish. I decided to throw a hail mary, so I chunked out a whiting head on a wire leader and a 6/0 hook, with a 5 oz. pyramid on a sinker slide. After about half an hour, I had no takers, so I took the belly section of the whiting and chunked it out as far as I could muster.
It was getting pretty late at this point and the wife was texting me to ask how much longer I was going to stay out. I pulled down my other rods and spikes and was packing the cart up. For some reason, when I got done packing, I decided to look in the gut and see what kind of bait fish were there.
I took about 15 steps from where the Glowstik was spiked and was looking around with a headlight. I turned back to the rod and saw it hit the surf. The sand spike, made from pvc and aluminum angle was bent to a 90 degree L. I ran to the rod, but it was too late. When I got about 3 feet from it, it shot out over the bars like a torpedo. All that I could see was the fading glow of the rod.
After my week of frustration, all that I could do was laugh. There was still a group of teenagers out on the beach, and I'm sure they thought that I was crazy. I laughed for a solid 5 minutes or so, before I could even process what I was going to do next. I had finally reached my much needed moment of Zen, and peace with the world.
So, I finally pushed the cart back up to the walkway, got everything rinsed off, and retired to my condo. When I got out on the balcony, I spent my last 30 minutes awake, watching the glowing rod take a tour of the Gulf of Mexico.
