I hurried out to the Jetties after fulfilling my family photo obligations and as the sun was falling fast across the Laguna Madre. I knew the Tarpon were there, and no illusion, because I had seen them a couple of days before - the day before I had finally talked to David McDonald of Harlingen, Texas, about coming out and doing some fishing.

David would not have much to do with the thought of anything but hitting the Jetties and taking blind shots at Summer Tarpon at the tip of Texas. So, I rushed to get done and caught a ride to the Jetties, got dropped off, and hustled out onto the granite boulders, focusing on each well thought step and the speediest route to the end of the line. The Jetties alone present a challenge to unaccustomed feet; just days before I had seen a young (probably military person on leave) fall flat on his back. He was far enough away that by the time I heard his body slap the granite he was already shaking it off and telling buddies he was ok. (So, wear your spikes, don’t go alone, and watch every step if you decide to hit the jetties and go long for a smorgasbord offering of fish.)

I looked through the crowds on the near end of the Jetties and tried to see if anyone on the far end was fly fishing. All I could tell was there were a few people toward the end and a big gap where the 20/80 rule* kicked into effect. I finally hit the half-way mark and stopped to pull out my binoculars, focused and spotted David about 40 feet from the end of the Jetties. I had been to the end a few times before, and there is no place on the Jetties where your senses are more heightened, where you feel almost at sea, but still bound to land. It’s a place where risk becomes palpable, where once when I was young we were a large group, on a weekend retreat, walking near the end when a rogue wave came along and almost washed the smallest in the group away. We grabbed small Shay just as the wave soaked us to our knees at the top of the Jetties, and kept her from being thrown over and churned.

I picked up the pace to a dangerous level of rock-hopping my way to finally meet a fellow fly fisher from South Texas, and maybe get a pointer or ten on how to go at those silver giants. Once I arrived, David was visibly high … from seeing two Tarpon roll within 20 feet of the Jetties. We quickly shook hands and he was right back to it. We agreed that the information given to us separately was the same - Larry at The Fly Shop in Port Isabel had said that they may roll out in the channel, but they strike for him way in close. He didn’t claim to know if they were following in or what, but that many times, just as he is about to lift his line, they hit and it’s on.

So we casted on the spot, and watched large bait fish reflect their way through the rocks at the last fading of daylight, casting against the wind and keeping the fly wet as long as possible while fighting the wave’s tendency to wash line into the barnacled cracks of the Jetties granite. My gear was working fine and is still better than I may ever be at this sport. Flies were large and whistling through the air as darkness finally made our best intentions invisible.

On the way back we finally talked about the methods for (some future) success with Tarpon on the Jetties. David, it seems, derives plenty of joy just from the chance at a Tarpon and continues to come out and cast at them even though he’s never caught or hooked one - yet. The stories of people he knows who have caught them off the Jetties are what keeps him coming back - it has been done and it will be done again - in that exact place and at just about that time of day.

We made our plans for fishing the Lower Laguna Madre in August or September, and exchanged more information, the life blood of fly fishing, as we slowly found our way back along the dark crevices of the Jetties and onto hard sand.

Later, I was trying to think of a way to make sense of the rivalry between fishermen, like David, and these giant silver fish. “Then David put his hand in his bag and pulled out a stone: and he slung it …” - I Samuel 17:49 .

 

 Casting For Tarpon at the end of South Padre Island Jetties, Texas USA.: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

* John Gierach (paraphrasing) - If you go twenty percent further than everyone else on the water, you get away from eighty percent of the people.

OK, it is now painfully obvious that combining a family “vacation”, fly fishing and automotive mayhem do not go well together. One of each at a time is fine and expected. Two in any combination combines like … like the time I was fiberglassing a water scooter and mixed the resin in the wrong proportions - hot, hotter and finally ignition.

In my elementary opinion, one needs time to get the feel for the fish to get the feel for the terrain and finally with luck, get into the fishes head. There’s no time for that here and now. We did get some time out on the flats along Laguna Heights on Wednesday at flat low tide. The water was great - clear and winds were unbelievably low. We did see some fish signs, but very few and far between in my approximate 1.5 mile cruise of the flats. I knew then that there was much I did not know, and that with those conditions, something was missing.

Day Four - We basically used a whole day to go to San Antonio to get the Land Cruiser from its resting place and drive back down with new transmission pulling like a mule. All good there. Kayaks were still fine, although mine suffered a partial taco on the bottom from being cinched down too tight on the foam blocked roof rack. It just keeps coming.

We stopped at The Fly Shop so that I could show Leslie the combination fly shop art gallery and framing store just a few yards before the bridge on the Port Isabel side. Of course I had to tell Larry what I didn’t know and see what I could find out. The guy ties some really nice flies in patterns unlike anything you would find in your generic Big Box. After I told Larry about the conditions and skunking on the Heights Flats, he whipped out the recent issue of a local weekly rag, and went to the tide charts
and showed us the graphs. Larry is a professed Moon Phase and tide watcher - I never doubted or questioned either. The graphs are showing lulls when the tide is completely out - all day long. Fishing with tides in mind should be on the rise and fall of the tides, drink and eat when all in or all out, and get ready for the curves.

I quizzed Larry on locations based on the tide times we were looking at, and began to see a strategic approach to this “fishing trip”. There was this one spot he talked about with a glow and a twinkle - on the Bay Side and north of civilization. With the help of the new Land Cruiser, we will give that a look at high noon today. He described it as a Caribbean experience - long, expansive shallow sand flats (barefoot wadable) loaded with shadows of fish passing by no matter the time, tide or moon. Location S. It’s time to get cranked up for that, so maybe this will yield some fish or other unmitigated adventure. Tonight it’s onto the jetties, and maybe I can learn some more from local David McDonald and the experience of doing.

I guess the failures go with the successes, and this one is teetering on the edge of the abyss. At least we gave it a go, and now it’s about time to pack it up and walk home - tail firmly tucked. The only skids here will be tire marks left behind headed for home.