Before turkey hunting totally messed up my mind, I always looked forward to spring and the opportunity to trailer my boat to a nearby lake to do battle with big, sway-bellied spawning bass, crappie hanging out around the roots of shallow cypresses or my favorite, finding a bed of bream.[…]
The cricket skittered across the water’s surface, frantically trying to reach the nearest tree. Ripples that telegraphed its position to every fish within yards radiated from the insect with every kick of its legs.
The insect would pause every few inches, either to catch its breath or to allow the damning wavelets to dissipate. Then it would continue its voyage, drawing nearer to safe haven with every powerful surge.
[…]
The sky was a gorgeous dark grey — almost black — as we pounded into Breton Sound. Lovely little white caps topped the waves like frosting on chocolate cake, the swells between them heavily rippled by the savage gusts that had kicked up just seconds earlier.[…]
“Come on, come on, don’t play with it. Yeah baby,” Christine whooped.Swinging my seat around to watch the action, I was just in time to see her give a non-lady-like, lip-ripping yank.[…]
Gabby was never much of a fisherman. Oh, sure, she’d go out with the family when we would fish, but just so she could feel the wind in her hair as we ran the boat from one spot to another.[…]
Crappie. White Perch. Sac-a-lait. Call them whatever you want, but in the Cormier household, we call them “dinner.” Nothing brings everyone to the table faster than a fresh-fried batch of these tasty critters.
For that reason, anytime I’m on the water and fishing sac-a-lait, I practice a different form of catch-and-release. I catch the sac-a-lait, then release them into my ice box.[…]
The anglers shivered as the boat came off plane, evidence that leading edge of a cold front working its way through the state had reached Blind River.[…]
The promise of numbers of crappie rang in my head as I watched Garrett napping across the seats of the big Bass Cat.[…]
If you cut your buzzbait off as soon as the sun gets above the trees, you don’t know what you’re missing.[…]
Catfishing is one of Louisiana’s most popular pastimes. For generations, we have pursued Mr. Whiskers with traps, nets, yo-yos, rod and reel, and old-fashioned cane pole. Today, more and more fishermen are trying an old, but relatively unknown, method — jugging.[…]
Well, let’s try this again,” I said as Clay pushed the boat out from the muddy Dugdemona river bank. This was the second time in a week that my cousin Clay Scoggin, his son Jake and I had come here to participate in a North Louisiana springtime ritual: yo-yo fishing.[…]
Bigger is better, right?
Not in Capt. Bryce Michel’s estimation.[…]
Allow me to get this disclaimer out of the way very quickly:[…]
Patrick McManus, author and long-time columnist for Outdoor Life and Field & Stream magazines, once observed that the two best times to fish are “when it’s rainin’ and when it ain’t.”[…]
Fly fishers will find any means necessary to amuse themselves on the water. If it has fins, it’s fair game.[…]
Louisiana has its great and storied winter sac-a-lait fishing holes such as Saline-Larto and the Chicken Coop at Toledo Bend.[…]