Recently, the family and i loaded up and headed north to Charleston to meet up with other friends and attend an annual social event hosted by Flood Tide Co.
I’ve been friends with the founders of the lifestyle brand for years and it makes going to the event more like a family reunion.
While in Charleston there are a multitude of amazing places to eat, drink and generally enjoy yourself. We made sure to take full advantage.
The first that is referred to in the title came for my friend Marc. He had never fished a flooded spartina grass meadow for tailing redfish, so it was a priority to give him a shot to cross off a bucket list item.
Despite being windier than most would like, we found a couple of kindred souls willing to brave the gale and swell on the Wando River on Friday morning.
We powered through sporty conditions as the wind and tide worked against each other, stacking up chop that at times made me wonder why we had ignored the small craft advisory.
Once we made our way far enough up the river, leeward shorelines welcomed us.
Marc took the bow of my skiff and we started our search.
His wonder and excitement was palpable. It was truly special to see his wonder and amazement as we pushed along over a meadow that had only hours before been high and dry.
We finally spotted a redfish tailing and maneuvered into position for a cast. The ending was less than favorable thanks to a “trout set”.
With a mistake behind us, we found another fish and began what would turn into a 8- 10 minute game of cat and mouse as the fish would appear and disappear in the grass, moving along in search of prey with zero clue as to our presence.
The pace got a bit frenetic as the wayward redfish moved steadily towards us. Casts were going long, wide, short; pretty much everywhere they could without being in the “spa” they needed to be.
In response to my suggestion; “hit it on the head…” Marc’s fly dropped by the fish’s left eye, maybe 3 inches away. The response by the redfish was a definitive surge to inhale the crab.
And, just like that, Marc had his first Lowcountry redfish on the fly.
We had a hard time wiping the smiles off our face the rest of the day.
Firsts do that to a man.