The Quack, Flounder Crack and Don’t Look Back…

I have been very fortunate to fish with so many great anglers over the years.  It’s always a treat (and challenge) when a fisherman shares his experiences from fishing around the world. Fast forward to Sat (5/26) and enter another heavy hitter.  Mill was fresh off a Gulf Coast tour where he had landed a pile of quality trout including a real gator at 7.5, all on plugs. The plan was to leave all corks and bait at home, find a few of our Golden Isles trout, and go exploit the amazing flounder bite that’s been going on…all artificial of course.

 Hit the dock a 0 dark thirty and load drinks and…no ice.  Strike one, and I thought I detected a nervous twitch from Mill (probably just indigestion). All good, we’ll fish some deep structure nearby and wait 30 minutes for the boys at the marina to open up.  No bites deep, so back for ice and off we go. There’s a little breeze blowing but the water looks pretty good.  We break out the bombers and go to chunkin’.  Bang, big bite.  Drag screamin’ thinkin big red, but when we get a look, an absolute beast of a bonnet head has the special bomber inhaled.  So now we’re dragged half way down the river with no trout. That’s a point against, so minus one point.  We beat some more banks with nothing to show.  Then bang, big bite.  Too big.  Cow ray = minus 2.  Mill picks off a couple of pocket trout, to actually prove that trout exist on the east coast. I am doing nothing to back up the amazing trout fishing that St Simons has to offer.

 Oh well, time to break out the flounder crack (Gulp! 4” Swimming Mullet) and start stickin’ flat fish. Right off the bat, big bite.  I know Mill has just hooked that 10 lb flattie.  Cow ray.  Minus three.  Now I am pretty sure I am getting the stink eye and I swear that eyebrow is twitching.  OK, deep breath, look over my shoulder, and I got wind and what looks like an armada of boats moving in. Time to bear down. And I have got just the angler to get it done.  So jigging our way thru snags and break-offs, Mill starts picking the flattie’s off.  Three hundred ninety two casts later, we are at three.  It’s obvious the bite is tough.  With time running short, we pick it up a notch.  Three solid fish later, and we end up with 6. That dreaded “shoulda been here yesterday” is echoing in my head.

But now the rest of the story.  Mill actually kept me laughing the whole trip, and turned out to be one of those guys you like to have with you on every trip.  Besides being a tremendous angler, Mill is a world class guy.  Look for the upcoming sequel, “The Quack Attack…Pluggin’ with Mill”. Thanks Mill, I had a great time, and enjoyed meeting your better half!