The Tar Heel Outdoorsman

 If you've ever stumbled across any of my words online, you've probably noticed that I'm more of a fly guy.  I just love that feeling of propelling fly line through the air with the rod, feeling the bend and strength of the rod as it loads and projects the line towards your casting target.  But, occasionally, there's a time to chunk some bait.  The good news was we didn't have to leave Edenton too early.  The bite hadn't started until 9:30 in the morning or so, my buddy said.  So, thankfully, no need to wake up at the crack of dawn to make the hour or so drive to Swan Quarter.   The goal was to catch a few drum, and maybe even invite a few to dinner.  It wasn't "old drum" time of late summer, but there were still some big ones out there.  We launched Johny's Jones Brothers Cape Fisherman, idled down the canal, and jumped on a plane to get over the bar and shoaling right outside the canal.  We ran out, not too far, fishing little cov...

Around Wrightsville Beach and Figure Eight Island, they always said you couldn't catch fish off the docks on artificial bait.  Those fish just see so much thrown at them, they said.  It was live or cut bait only, preferably live.   I've found that not to be the case.  Especially for big flounder and the occasional drum or trout.  And if you enjoy the active experience of trying to manipulate a bait with a rod and reel to try and trick a fish, fishing artificial bait is the way to go.  If there's a flounder season this year in North Carolina, give it a shot.   At least for the fish by the docks around the Wrightsville/Figure Eight areas, here's my playbook.  White soft-plastic baits , preferably scented, on a jig head that's going to sink quickly enough and stay at the bottom, depending on where you're fishing.  Cast close to the dock, bump the bait off the bottom, retrieve slowly.   The flat fish seem to like white baits,...

My blog has been dormant like an alligator in the winter mud.  I'm trying to awaken it from its slumber.    In an attempt to rouse this online place where I occasionally jot some things down, I'm looking back a ways, back to March of '22.  A darn fine weekend.  Or a collection of a few weekends.  Regardless, darn fine.  Oysters and drum and cool, clean, and clear salt water, and azaleas in bloom.     Picking oysters---knocking the too-small ones off the clusters, toss the ones you keep in the fish basket sitting in the still cold, early spring, southeastern Carolina water, still cold and clean, maybe even shuck one of the bivalves for a briny mid morning snack, or maybe it was mid afternoon.  Find a few mussels too, just poking through a mud bank of a small creek, pull them, often connected together in a big clump, out of that dark rich mud that smells like marsh.   A few drum---casting up on the oyster bank, let the jig a...

Sambo's a good pup.  He's a pup, even if he is about 10 years old.