One of the more pleasant “distractions” involving trolling baits for billfish off the Louisiana coast is the tasty by-catch of dolphin — dorado or mahi-mahi for sensitive or easily confused types — big enough to attack and get a hold of a bait designed for the biggest of bites. […]
The topwaters were ridiculously large. They measured 5 inches long, and were as big around as the largest, nastiest stogie imaginable.[…]
Came late summer, and Eddie finally sprang for that 22-foot Pro-line he’d been mooning over since he moved back down from up north, where he’d migrated after LSU.[…]
For summer redfish action, locals from the St. Mary Parish Tri-City area head south, out the mouth of the Atchafalaya River and into Four League Bay.[…]
Dale Taylor had been slinging his black buzz bait all night long. Gayle, his wife, had turned it in long ago, and was resting peacefully on the back deck[…]
The memories of the summers of my youth growing up in rural North Louisiana are as vivid today as they were then — no school for three months, shoes and shirts tossed in the closet, cut-off jeans the only required apparel until September.[…]
August is an iffy month for fishing most any body of water in South Louisiana.Searing heat, time-consuming end of the summer activities and the beginning of the real tropical season tend to throw many fishermen off their rhythm in planning trips. […]
I grew up in the 1960s, when groups like the Beach Boys became rich and famous singing about surfing in the summertime.[…]
It wasn’t a man on the bow of the boat.
It was a machine.[…]
The sun was barely peeking through Venice’s roseau canes, but chirping could already be heard in the canal.[…]
The time of year was mid-summer. The time of day, dawn. The fishing hole, Lake D’Arbonne.[…]
The giant flare was as impressive audibly as it was in a visual sense, giving off a dull roar.[…]
It flashed like a silver dish flipping underwater. The lane snapper shot one way and then another.[…]
The tide was slack when C.J. Rojas reached Barataria Bay, and the results of the first several hours of fishing were predictable.[…]
Ernie Pyle called it the “thousand-yard stare.” Pyle was a WWII war correspondent who shared foxholes with the boys who won it. He wrote for the folks back home about the grunts and dogfaces and the holy hell they went through while blasting their way to victory — but from a front-line seat.[…]
When hurricane Ivan spared the majority of the population of Southeast Louisiana last fall, it certainly did the Breton and Chandeleur Island chain no favors.[…]