The Hall of the Giants

On the second day with Tony and Scott, we didn't find pods working in the same place as the day before. So after stopping in a couple of other spots, and finding few fish, I took the guys to the hall of the giants, to see if the big reds were feeding in a far, far, western venue, where virtually no one ever fishes. Since I couldn't wade with them, I oriented them to the area, and gave them my blessings as they struck out on a rather longish wade into water so shallow that I could not follow with the Stilt. I had mixed feelings as I said goodbye to them, because even though it was one of my favorite venues of all time, I also knew that the fish were often elsewhere. Given the distance that they had to wade just to find out if the fish were "home," I was a bit anxious that I'd set them out on a fruitless mission.
I sat and squinted for over an hour and a half while they spread out and waded into a shallow, murky flat that was full of mullet, and punctuated by areas of glasswort sticking above the water. After a while, I noticed Tony in his heron pose, obviously stalking a fish. He hooked up and landed a 26" red, and released it only minutes before hooking and landing another fish of the same general size. I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a tough two days thus far, given the rain storms and virtual absence of sunlight. Fortunately, my clients were the kind of anglers that can make the best of any situation.