Sunday, August 26, 2001

Debate down south

David Sikes/Caller-Times

Fishing the southern waters, the desire to find the rocks and seagrass edges of the Badlands at dawn takes Robert Zapata to a higher vantage.

A patch of pale blue separated gilded gray clouds above Twin Palms as we skimmed southward on a smooth Laguna Madre surface.
   My eyes remained skyward to watch the sun-streaked window widen until an unfamiliar glimpse lowered my gaze. The distraction turned out to be just another new floater cabin, which had been added to the landscape since I'd last passed this way.
   I rose to my feet, anticipating rougher water at the mouth of Baffin Bay.
   By the time we reached the Badlands, I could feel the warmth of a Padre Island sunrise on the left side of my face. Veteran guide Robert Zapata slowed his engine and hopped atop his console for better vantage, using his foot to steer.

David Sikes/Caller-Times

The days of braided fishing line backlashing and binding appear to be over. Braided line is stronger and can cast farther than its monofilament counterparts.

   It's difficult to see the shadowy perils and fish-holding seagrass lines of the Badlands in morning's light, especially when clouds shade the water. Satisfied with his bearings, Zapata stepped down and started for the bow so his trolling motor could silently negotiate the subsurface rocks we'd be fishing.
   Baffin Bay has gotten a bad rap lately. Deserved or not, the fabled waters - if not much of the water between Bird Island and Rocky Slough, generally - have been forsaken for parts north and south. Much of this reputation is the result of rough and stained water, caused by unseasonably high winds, among other things.
   Even veteran anglers have quietly complained lately about a bay in jeopardy of losing its title as the most productive trophy trout spot on the Texas coast. Others say not to worry, that this is temporary. They say that fat yellow-mouth trout will be there, a year

David Sikes/Caller-Times

Robert Zapata hooks a fish and holds on.

older, a year wiser and an inch or so longer, when favorable conditions return.
   Regarding reputation, as long as the words Baffin Bay top the state record list, adjacent to Jim Wallace's 13.11-pound speck, the novelty will endure, at least for weekend visitors.
   We found the mouth of Baffin deserted this Tuesday morning, with the exception of Zapata's colleague, John Mendeleski, who also was perched on his bow, gliding on electric power.
   The water was murky brown.
   Perfect for testing some of the liveliest, slimiest and healthiest looking croaker I've seen this year. Red blotches, a lack of slime or half-eaten tails will result in promise unfulfilled when it comes to the fragile croaker. We had none of that.

David Sikes/Caller-Times

The trophy trout was caught the hard way.

   Most guides I spoke with say no amount of oxygen, aeration, ice or Pogie Saver will revive an abused croaker. These popular resuscitators will help your bait cling to life a little longer. But once hooked and flung, a crippled croaker will fade quickly.
   Zapata also wanted me to try Power Pro braided line during this outing. No thanks, I said at first, having cursed similar brands on several occasions because of its propensity to backlash and bind.
   But he insisted that new technology had addressed this flaw.
   In the beginning, braided line was more flat like ribbon than round like monofilament. When wound on a reel, this property results in line burying itself in the spool

David Sikes/Caller-Times

This ones headed for the taxidermist.

under the strain of even light tension. The result was nasty backlashes that were difficult, if not impossible, to untangle. Fishing ceases to be enjoyable under these circumstances. The solution was either found in a knife or a second reel.
   But somebody figured out a way to manufacture braided line that's round. Mind you, the fact that it's slicker than snail trail still makes the lighter strengths bind. But at 50-pound test or stronger, the greater diameters seem to perform betterb on baitcasters. Use 30-pound test or heavier on spinning reels. The 50-pound strength I used was the diameter you'd expect from 10-or 12-pound mono.
   The no-stretch quality of braided line means it will break closer to its test strength, according to an industry representative.
   There is no question that braided fishing line is stronger than monofilament of a comparable diameter. It's remarkable how slick, limp and thin braided string can be. And it casts farther with less effort.

David Sikes/Caller-Times

This scene was repeated numerous times last week in south Yarborough, where redfish and trout have been plentiful at times lately.

   But the line's no-stretch quality arguable is its biggest selling point. No stretch means intense sensitivity. A perch brushing up against outstretched braided line will telegraph a signal through a good graphite rod and immediately to an angler's hand.
   I like that.
   Even a half-hearted strike on a falling Bass Assassin will not go unnoticed. You feel everything. And that's important for lure chuckers.
   There are advantages for bait users also. I've seen more trout missed by anglers who repeatedly fail to reel up slack in their line before attempting to set the hook. A little slack combined with the stretch of monofilament usually results in missed fish.
   Not so with braided line.
   Another positive quality of braided line is its durability. It's resistant to abrasions from the rocks of Baffin and other underwater threats, and nearly impossible to cut. It also laughs at the sharp edges of fingernail clippers. So bring a knife or scissors.
   And be careful when testing a knot's strength. This stuff'll slice through your skin.

David Sikes/Caller-Times

This was the biggest of many redfish caught in south Yarborough during a successful morning on both sides of the Intracoastal Waterway near Baffin Bay.

   Other braided lines with properties similar to Power Pro include Remington's Power Lokt, Fins braided line, Berkley's FireLine and Whiplash and Spiderline's Spiderwire and Fusion.
   Here's a hint. Wrap several yards of monofilament directly onto the spool of your reel then tie braided line directly to the monofilament. Braided line is so slick, it will slip on most reel spools if attached directly.
   Zapata has tried most of these brands, but spools Power Pro on his spinning reels and baitcasters.
   At several clusters of Badlands' rocks, it performed well. Dr. Libardo Taboada, Zapata and I caught trout up to 23 inches, but the bite wasn't brisk enough to hold us there.
   So we motored to north Yarborough in search of redfish.
   There were few.
   So we went to south Yarborough.
   Here, they were plentiful.
   The redfish bite was immediate and unceasing for the first hour, complete with several duets and drag-defying runs. We boxed a few and released some all within the vicinity of a little blue cabin. Find it, sneak quietly to within 150 yards of shore and you might find what we found, the perfect grass line that forms a fishy inlet.
   Then the wind shifted, putting us off our spot. The breeze went from south-southeast to almost due east, the result of a dark and distant squall in the gulf.
   We adjusted our position a little to the northeast to compensate.
   And just after Zapata lowered anchor, we began catching trout instead of reds, not 30 yards from the previous spot.
   It was nearing noon when Taboada caught a hardhead. As we joked and jabbed the good doctor, Zapata placed his baited rod in a rod holder, loosened the drag and attended to our unwelcome guest. Just as he freed the thorny catfish, Zapata's rod tip plunged toward the blue cabin.
   He grabbed it, gave the star drag a crank and set the hook.
   "She's still on," he said, reeling hard and fast. "It's a good one."
   Both statements were obvious by the gapping yellow mouth that thrashed the surface. No doubt, it was a trout.
   When the fish neared the boat, Zapata grabbed his net and handed Taboada his rod.
   "Just keep it tight, Doc," he requested.
   But the fish - perhaps sensing opportunity - went deep under the boat, taking the rod tip with it and leading Taboada around the bow and to the other side of the boat. Then the powerful trout shot for the stern.
   I'm so glad it wasn't me holding that rod. There was nothing Taboada could do to stop it.
   If only we had tilted up the motor before. But it was too late. The fish had tangled line in and around the propeller.
   Zapata took the rod from Taboada's willing hands, leaned over the transom and frantically began unwinding line from his lower unit. I counted two wraps, at least.
   Somehow, the fish remained hooked.
   Just as remarkable, the exhausted sow made another run, again stripping line from Zapata's Chronarch.
   Again, I feared the line would break. That's what most of us expect when our line encounters the prop, right?
   I finally exhaled when the webbing of Zapata's net hoisted the 29¤ - inch trout into the boat.
   The net would have been empty if we'd used monofilament.
   Instead, the fish is at John Glenn's taxidermy shop.
  
  
  

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