Want trophies? Then stay away from Bay Eloi. But if your goal is to put the world’s best-tasting speckled trout fillets on your plate, there are few better places to go this month.
OK, I admit it. It’s not like I’m embarrassed about it or anything, but I just don’t eat a lot of fish. I eat some kinds of fish, but not all kinds, and almost never in a restaurant. The exceptions are, well, Middendorf’s, over in Manchac. Maybe that’s the only exception. There’s just something about those thin-fried catfish that I find irresistible. And I always order the large platter, and like Chloe, my grand-daughter, says, “I eat it all gone.”
Other than that, I rarely, if ever, order fish in a restaurant. When I want fish, I cook it at home myself. Either redfish, blackened or grilled on the half-shell (for which I have my own killer recipe), or speckled trout, fried.
And for my taste, when it comes to eating, I prefer small trout over larger ones any day. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, I could throw back all the 3-, 4- and 5-pound trout after I catch them. You know, enjoy the thrill of the catch, take a couple of pictures, and then release them to fight another day.
I know, I know, you can slice them thinner, soak them in marinades, “you can’t tell the difference,” blah, blah, blah. Heard that. Been there. Tried all that, and I can taste the difference.
For my taste, no matter how you slice ’em, dice ’em, bake, fry or ice ’em, they’re still a bit strong and fishy. I guess I got spoiled eating those small, almost sweet-to-the-taste 12- to 16-inch trout fillets. Nothing beats those little fillets, battered and fried just right. So when I want fish to eat, for my personal consumption, that’s the size trout I target.
I know that Bay Eloi usually has oodles of those perfect-sized trout in the late summer, so I called on an old buddy, Capt. Hook (985-847-0672), to see if I could arrange a trip out there with him.
Hook and I have fished together many times through the years, and on several of those occasions we hit Bay Eloi and did some damage to the trout population.
I was hoping to get into some of that action again, and was glad to find out that Hook was back chartering after a long absence due first to Katrina and then to a bout with some medical problems. He’s fully recovered now and booking trips, and I was happy to jump aboard his brand-new 24-foot Blazer Bay pushed by a 250 Yamaha four stroke.
Hook seemed a little surprised when I told him I wanted to fish Bay Eloi.
“It’s full of school trout,” he said, almost in protest.
“Central is holding tons of huge trout right now around the various structures. I mean big trout, 4 and 5 pounds,” he said.
I could detect a plea in his voice. I knew what he was up to. He wanted to go catch some big ol’ mamma-jamma trout, so he could get his picture in the magazine holding a 5- or 6-pound monster. But I was undeterred.
“I want to fish Eloi,” I said. “It’ll be an easy trip, we won’t have to take a pounding in the sound, we won’t have to make that long ride out to Central, and we won’t need to burn all that fuel.”
The part about the long ride and the fuel must have registered, and other than a look of disappointment and mumbling something about itty bitty trout under his breath, I heard no more protests from Capt. Hook. We were off and running, and Eloi was our destination.
Roughly speaking, Bay Eloi is that body of water bound by the MRGO rocks on the south end and marsh land on the west and north sides; it extends out about as far as the Second Cement Rig, which might now be considered the First Cement Rig because the former First Rig is gone. It was badly battered by Katrina, and after several attempts to fix it up, the owners just pulled it out.
Some say Bay Eloi also includes the Pogo Rig, just a bit farther out from the Second, uhh, First Rig. Naturally, Eloi gradually deepens, the closer to the sound you get. Once you get past the Cement Rig, the depths fall to about 22 feet, and then gradually rise as you get near the barrier islands, or what’s left of them. Hook says once the water drops past 12 feet or so, he considers it part of the sound.
We traveled down the Ship Channel and then turned out to go behind Gardner Island, and Hook pointed the bow toward a distant well head. I hooked us on with a rig hook, and once the boat settled into position, we got down to business.
The bait well was full of live shrimp, and we were all Carolina-rigged. Hook likes to use 30-pound braided line with a 12- to 18-inch monofilament leader tied to a kahle hook, and a 3/8- to ½-ounce barrel sinker. He says it’s more expensive, but the braid holds up better around all the structure where he’s been fishing.
Personally, I’ve never been much of a fan of braided line, but I have to admit that new Stren Superbraid is changing my mind. I spooled up a couple of reels with it, and the more I use it, the more I like it. It is definitely more durable when fished around structure like bridges, pilings and rigs; the no-stretch feature seems to reduce slack in my line, and I can even horse redfish around with it. I plan to restring all my reels with it before winter.
As promising as our well head looked, it just didn’t produce anything but a few hardheads. Fifteen minutes after we got there, we moved.
A mile or so farther out, we hooked on to another well head and gave it a good try.
“When the tide is moving hard, I usually hook on to the rig with a rig hook,” Hook said. “And I cast either directly into the current or cross current and let the bait move back toward me, which makes for a more natural presentation,” he said. “You just have to keep reeling enough to keep the slack out of your line.
“Slack is the enemy. You won’t be able to set the hook unless your line is tight, especially if you’re fishing with mono.”
On days with less tide, Hook says he likes to anchor and throw back toward the structure. If he doesn’t get any action after a few minutes, he moves.
“The key right now is to keep moving until you find them,” he said. “Hit and run. Don’t stay at one spot longer than 15 minutes, unless you are convinced the fish are there. And that is going to become even more essential as we move later into September and on into October.
“So far this summer, the fish have been in big schools. Once you find them, you can often limit out right there without moving. And if that school plays out before you get your limit, you move until you find another school and you wind up with your limit either way.
“But September begins that dreaded transition time, when the big schools begin to break up, and the fish slowly begin their migration toward the inside. Usually the schools aren’t as big and the fish can get finicky. You might catch a few here and a few there, but you have to keep moving to catch a box full.
“But this September might be different because it has just been so hot. It might prolong our outstanding summer season awhile longer, and I hope it does. The transition might not begin this year until October, or at least late September.
“One thing in favor of an extended summer season is the tremendous amount of bait in the water. Shrimp, pogies, mullet, minnows — it’s a wonder the fish aren’t all as fat as we are. There has been very little pressure on the shrimp because far fewer boats are trawling, and as long as that bait stays in the big bays and the sound, those fish aren’t going anywhere, transition or no transition.”
We moved again, and wound up at the Concrete Rig, where we got into some action.
Hook says when it comes to fishing rigs, the fish usually gang up on one corner or another. The key is to find the magic corner.
“If you fish a rig a few times, you know where they usually are, so try there first,” he recommended. “But just because they’re on one side today doesn’t mean they’ll be there tomorrow. Maybe they will, and maybe they won’t.
“Remember, these conditions change from day to day. The wind might change directions, and it might blow harder, or it could blow less. The tide will move harder or slower, rising or falling, the sky might be more overcast, the water might be cleaner or dirtier — all that affects the fish.
“Some days we kill them on a Carolina rig. The next day the only way you can catch them is under a cork. One day they’re on this side of the rig. The next day they’re on the other corner, or at a nearby well head. These fish move.
“And if you want to catch fish consistently, you have to adapt. Change baits, change presentations, fish under a cork, free-line, fish a Carolina rig — and move if nothing bites.”
By that time, we were putting some fish in the boat, and they were bigger than the usual schoolies. But the sky to our west was looking black and ominous. We’d been hearing thunder rumbling off in the distance for the past half-hour or so, but now we saw the flashes of lightning and began to feel the temperatures dropping. That’s a sure sign that ugly weather is nearby.
But the bite was so good that every cast resulted in a good hookup, and these trout fought like they meant it. One after another we reeled them into the boat.
All of us were reluctant to leave in the middle of all that action.
“We don’t have to worry until we feel that whoosh of almost cold air that seems to try to suck you toward the storm,” Hook said.
And no sooner had he said it, than we felt it! And with the whirling whoosh of down-swept wind came a crack of lightning and a thundering KABOOM that moved us into instant action. I had us unhooked from the rig faster than Hook could start the engine, and we were gone.
But that storm moved with incredible speed to block our exit, and it wrapped itself entirely around us before we could run. We were trapped, as Hook said, “Like the hole in a doughnut.”
And it kicked our butts.
We donned our rain gear and headed toward the shelter of the rocks, as the rain stung our faces with a howling ferocity. Hook slowed our forward speed to little more than a crawl because we were enveloped by a dark cloud and couldn’t see much more than a few yards in front of us. Thankfully the lightning seemed to stay a bit off in the distance, and the worst we suffered was a good soaking, even under our rain gear.
By the time we got to the short rocks, the rain had ended and Hook cut the engine about two cast lengths from the rocks and mid-way between the end of the rocks and Gardner Island.
“There is a big shallow reef out here,” he explained, “and on an incoming tide, when that good green-colored seawater comes in, this is usually a good place to either drift or troll until you get into some action.
“It’s easy fishing, with either live shrimp under a popping cork or Speckulizer rigs, and if you get a few hits, stick your Cajun anchor over and try to stay with it for awhile. These trout aren’t usually very big, but if it’s freezer-fillers you want, this is the place.”
Unfortunately, the water wasn’t green that day, because the strong winds and waves from the thunder-boomers had stirred up the shallow bottom and turned the water an ugly shade of mud.
He said the rocks and the shallow edges of Gardner Island and to the north of the short rocks, Dead-Man Island, were good places to toss topwater baits in the early mornings.
“You should also keep an eye open for birds this month,” he added.
We made one more move to the short rocks to try some trolling, where Hook says to look for any signs of baitfish in the water — minnows, shrimp, mullet, pogies — and wherever you see bait, fish there.
But the weather started building around us again. Dark clouds, rapidly cooling winds and the ominous rumble of thunder persuaded us to call it a day and see how fast that 250 Yamaha could take us to the dock.
Hook says Bay Eloi will be productive at the rocks, reefs, rigs, wells and islands throughout September, barring any hurricane activity. And besides trout, there’s sheepshead, drum, redfish and flounder. Perfect additions to your fridge or freezer.
Capt. Tim Ursin, a.k.a. Capt. Hook, can be reached at (985) 847-0672.
