Author and playwright Mehmet Murat ildan wrote,
“When there is nothing left to learn from the winter, move on to the spring!” Unfortunately, my winter learning curve
peaked in January, and it’s been a long crawl since then to get to spring-like
conditions. Even then, spring in Potter
County is a fickle thing. A few days of
warm temps are easily followed by the return of cold and snow.
Fortunately, Captain DiPaola had the remedy at
hand. I’m sure everyone who reads this
blog has seen fishing shows which center on southern Louisiana. So, when Joe suggested we check out the
fishery in person, there was no hesitation, and we headed off to Venice, Louisiana.
Getting to Venice was fairly
uncomplicated. Southwest flies direct to
New Orleans. From there you simply hop
into a rental car, get on I-10 East, and about 10 miles out of NOLA take
Louisiana Highway 23 south. From there
you simply drive straight another 50 miles or so until you run out of dry real
estate, and you’re in Venice.
Along the way you get an appreciation of the principal
threat to the folks who live in Plaquemine Parish. Not long after getting on the highway you look
to your left and see the twenty-foot high levee holding back the Mississippi. A little south of Belle Chase and you see an
additional twenty-foot high levee that holds
back the Gulf of Mexico. Folks who have
the money put their houses (and the schools, for that matter), on high
stilts. Unfortunately, those with lesser
means are at nature’s mercy. So, while
we know the images of New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina, you can only
imagine what the 27-30 foot tidal surge did in the lowlands to the south.
We arrived at the Venice Marina, where we had
rented a houseboat (actually, a house on a barge … very comfortable) for the
next two days, just as the offshore and inshore charter captains were pulling
in. Venice advertises itself as the fishing capital of the world. Watching the fish being offloaded, you’d have
a hard time arguing against the claim.
Swordfish, Tuna, Red Snapper, and Redfish in large numbers all made
their way to the cleaning stations. Hanging
out with a drink and a cigar under sunny skies and temps in the low 80s only increased
our eagerness to hit the water and experience the fishing ourselves.
That would have to wait until Sunday. Saturday evening, we met up with our guide, Captain
Herman Demoll, owner of Cajun Culture Fishing Adventures (www.cajunculture.net), at “Changes,” a
local restaurant owned by Herman’s aunt and uncle. Over gumbo and boiled crawfish,
we got to know Captain Herman, his history, and the culture of the area. As I mentioned earlier, the area is ground
zero for severe tropical weather. And job
opportunities are also pretty limited.
You’re either working the oil and gas rigs, or working the water. It’s amazing that folks choose to endure such
tough conditions. But they do, which is
as good a definition of resilient as I can think of.
Fortunately, Captain Herman is one of those
folks. As I’ve mentioned in previous
posts, although we’ve had a few clunkers for guides, overall, we’ve had more
success than failure. Captain Herman did
not disappoint. A fifth-generation
fisherman, Herman proved to be the consummate guide and angler, and a living
reflection of Cajun history, culture, and hospitality.
For the next two days we experienced firsthand
the amazing inshore fishery in the Mississippi delta. Captain Herman would pull up to the houseboat
promptly at 0615, load our gear, and head off.
Both days we fished during an outgoing tide at an area known as the “Wagon
Wheel.” As the name suggests, it’s a circular-looking
area just west of the marina. From a map
it looks only a distance of a few miles to the west. But there are no straight lines to get to the
great fishing spots. The boat ride alone
was worth the trip. Captain Herman
demonstrated the worth of five generations of knowledge as he navigated the marshes. I’m not a great judge of speed, but we were
moving at a good clip, and in some cases in channels that were not much wider
than his skiff.
Within an hour or so he had us set up in what
would be one of two fantastic fishing spots for the trip. The first was essentially a 5-6 acre cul-de-sac
of water surrounded by cane and other grasses. His fishing technique was straightforward. We first anchored at the mouth of the hole,
rigged up spinning rods with popping corks, about 12 inches of leader, a small
weight, and a Kahle hook, kind of an offset circle hook. Since crawfish season had recently opened, live
mudbugs were the bait of choice. Baiting
the hook was simple enough; just push the hook through the tail of the crawdad,
and cast it close to the bank. From
there the technique got a little more complicated. The popping cork is designed to make a
snapping noise when the rod tip is jerked, a noise which is like a dinner bell
to a Redfish. Key to the technique,
though, is slack and patience. Keeping
slack in the line gives the fish time to take the bait and run. Patience improves the chances of a successful
hook up. So, when the cork went under, a
five second pause, followed by reeling in the remaining slack and setting the
hook, usually meant fish on! The technique
took a bit of time to master, with a good number of early misses. But once we figured it out, fishing turned to
catching. And when the bite slackened,
Captain Herman would simply move the boat to another section of the hole, drop
the power poles, and we’d go back to catching.
We hopped onboard Captain Herman’s boat the
next day with clear skies, temps in the low 50s, a bit breezy but seemingly not
enough to keep us from our mission of catching a Red on a fly. We began at the same hole that we had hit on
day one. But unlike the previous day,
while we caught good numbers of fish, we caught much bigger fish, several in
the bull-class. Having circumnavigated the hole, Captain Herman pulled up the power poles to hit a second hole, which
turned out to be the hottest spot of the trip.
Again, he zigged and zagged the skiff around and through the Wagon
Wheel, stopping at the entrance of a small creek channel connecting two larger
holes. The channel itself was nothing to
look at; about 60-80 feet long, 30 or so feet wide, 3-4 feet depth on the left
bank, and shallowing as you went towards the right bank. Beyond the channel you could discern a hole of
2-3 feet depth about 80 feet in diameter.
But inside the channel and the hole on the other side were an incredible
number of Reds. For at least an hour and
a half we were tying into fish on almost every cast, and again many of them
were better than 27 inches. We doubled
up on more than a couple of occasions, which was somewhat dicey considering the
narrowness of the channel. But the urge to tie into another big Red threw
caution to the wind.
After a bit we decided to try the flyrods one
more time. Captain Herman moved up into
the channel a bit to get us closer to the far hole. From there it didn’t take long for each of us
to claim our first Redfish on a fly.
Mission accomplished!
We hit one more spot that Captain Herman was
interested in, but didn’t see much action, so we decided to head back to the
marina. Anyway, the thirty-three fish
that we caught and released suggested a pretty good day. Bidding Captain Herman adieu, we drove back
to NOLA, where we experienced a bit of the French Quarter, had a great meal at
the Bourbon Street Grill, and finished the night with a couple of Sazeracs at
Galatoires. The perfect end to a perfect
fishing expedition.
Our thanks to Captain Herman of Cajun Culture
Fishing Adventures, who made the trip an incredible fishing experience!!!
“Laissez les bon temps rouler,”
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