Duck Season!!!

It's finally arrived! Duck season is here and I've even been blessed with getting to go out and do some shooting.

I've always loved duck hunting, but since I left for college, it's been a Christmas vacation activity. A lack of local public water meant that I missed the first split entirely. I hadn't heard much about duck hunting around College Station until last year, when I saw a video of some ducks taking off from Lake Somerville. The sky was absolutely black with them! I'd heard Somerville was boat-hunting only, though, and left it alone. Turns out I was wronge and there is an area where hunting from shore is allowed. That's of no importance now, as the waterfowl season on Somerville has been closed due to low water. Needless to say I'd gotten it settled in my mind that I was going to have to wait until my return to North Texas this winter to get in some duck hunting, which is why I was overjoyed by what I saw on Saturday.

Friday night found me cruising google maps, looking up travel times to various destinations across the State. This newly found cooler weather has my mind on fishing (let's be honest; it feels more like April than November out there) and my fly rod is in dire need of an exorcism. I had my mind on the Frio, near Leakey, but that's five hours away and I don't know if it's even got water in it. My next thought was the Brazos below Whitney, my old friend.  That's two and a half hours away, but I know the ground and it's always a fun trip.  Low lake levels and a check on the Corps of Engineers website assured me that there wouldn't be any water released from the dam, meaning I could travel down stream and back up easily.  Mother Nature had other plans, though, and a check of the weather showed winds from the South-Southeast forcased at 15+ mph.  The way the Brazos runs from the dam is in that direction, and winds whip up the river canyon with a vengence. Past experience has taught me that 15+ would be too much for me to handle in my yak with my 5-weight. Time to formulate Plan B. I decided to fish one of the local rivers, as I still haven't discovered all they have to offer.

I didn't wake up until 8:00 on Saturday, even though my alarm had been set for 6:45. A temporary deafness apparently had taken over and I had slept through my alarm. It was just as well; the weather was pretty cool, and I had no desire to sit in a wet kayak when it was that cool out. I cleared out for my destination at around 1:00 p.m., waders in tow. Arriving at the put in, I almost turned around and headed home. A green film covered the water, and from a distance it looked like a cyanobacteria bloom. Closer inspection found it to be duckmoss. It's been years since I'd seen duck moss that thick, and I was immediatly excited. As expected from the name, ducks love duck moss. Mind you, I still thought my duck season was postponed, but any duck hunter's heart beats a little harder when he sees good duck habitat.

Things only got better as I made my way down stream.  Within 100 yards of the bridge I was jumping squealers. They were everywhere! One must have been named Bob White, because he waited until I was only five yards away to bust from cover. Dozens of squealers were whining their complaints as they fogged out of the hole. Fishing suddenly took a back seat and this became a scouting trip. Travel further down stream found more of the same and solidified my decision to return in the morning, gun in hand. 

Saturday night was restless, punctuated with paniced awakenings every hour. I was so excited about hunting I couldn't wait for morning to arrive. The alarm finally rang and I was out the door at 4:20, and set up by 5:20. An hour I sat there, listening to the woodies as they squealed and whistled. Legal shooting time rolled around and I gave a feeding chuckle and a few quacks. Three ducks swam my way from down stream. I was able to watch them through the branches of the brush I was hiding in, and had my gun up and waiting when they rounded the corner. One shot put two down for good, while a second finished off the third, now wounded, duck. Some might interject that shooting ducks on the water is unsportsman-like, but I love skillet shots. Any time you can kill three ducks in two shots over a span of five seconds, well I just can't find anything wronge with that. I was laughing like a mad-man as I picked up my prize, two woodies and a gadwall. I made my way back into the brush and let loose with a few hail calls, hoping to bring something into range. My calls were answered by a pair of fighter jets. The pair performed a fly-by that caught me by complete surprise. They'd come from down stream and I hadn't seen them until they were in front of me. Luckily, they landed just up stream and out of view. A few feeding chuckles and soft quacks got them headed my way, though, and I saw it was more woodducks. The limit on squealers is three a day, and I already had two. Luckily, the pair was spread out with the male in the lead. I settled my bead on him and finished off my limit of woodies. I figured four ducks was enough for one day, and enough to let the roommates all get a taste, so I packed up and lit out for home. I checked my phone when I got the truck all packed and it was 7:30. I got home and had myself and the ducks cleaned in time to make it to church.

Here's the hunting spot:

Here's the day's catch:

From looking at the pictures, you'd think the ducks would have been full of shot. I didn't find a single BB in the breast of any of the ducks. It seems they all stayed in the neck and head region. I grilled them up for myself and the roommates that night, wrapped in bacon and jalapenos.

Galveston, Oh Galveston!

My ichthyology class packed into two vans and headed to Christmas Bay this weekend to do some saltwater seining.  We started off the trip with a visit to the Texas Sea Center, then headed on over to Christmas Bay and did some seining there.  We caught a bunch of little fish and shrimp.  I'd brought my fly rod along and was casting into the boat channel and bringing my fly back into the shallower grass beds.  I hadn't had any luck until I hooked on a shrimp my classmates caught in the net.  I immediately hooked up with a little pinfish.  The little guy was only about six inches long, but he sure was feisty!  I then cramped a little larger shrimp on my clouser/hook and cast into the channel again.  I let the fly-bait-combo sink for a little while, then started giving it some short twitches.  I felt the thump and set the hook.  I immediately knew I had something larger on the line than a pinfish, and took my time fighting it.  This guy definitly put a bend in my 5-weight:

My first flounder on a fly rod!  He wasn't huge, but he met regulations and went into the cooler.  We switched over to gulfside soon after and I put down the fly rod en liu of a bag sein.  We caught a bunch of bumpers and sardines over there.  We capped the day off with supper at Casey's (I had the gumbo and highly recommend it) and a long car ride home.

Time to Catch Up!

For all of you who are wondering, yes, I made it back from Neets.  Going from the remote hatchery of Neets Bay to the bustling town of College Station in under 48 hours made for a crazy end to the summer.  My blogging dropped off mainly due to work.  We began egg-take at the hatchery and the work really began.  Ten plus hour days were the norm, with eleven and twelve hour days frequent.  In total, egg-take and roe stripping was about three weeks.  We put 138 million summer chum salmon eggs in the incubators before it was all over.  I did manage to get in some fishing after it was all done though, with visits to Neets Lake, as well as the cutthroat ponds at Traders' Cove.
This is the water I was fishing at Traders' Cove

These are just some of the cutts I was catching.  Woolly buggers I'd tied in my room were the ticket that day.  I caught dozens of fish like these, the biggest going around 12 inches and being pretty thick.

I also had the pleasure of being in the boat when a good sized halibut was caught.  Here's Gavin and Andy posing with it.

They insisted I pose with it, even though I just watched.  They said the catching of a butt was a community affair and anybody in the boat was part of the catch.

I figure I should include some pictures of the boys.  They're a great crew and know how to get work done and have a good time.

These two girls were on a tour of the hatchery and asked if they could have our picture.  The crew, from left to right: Andy, Gavin, Mark Y., Me, Cody A.

Brian and Gavin are cutting hens here, while I'm bucking (buck is the term for a male salmon).

The crew on break.  From left to right: Mike, Cody A., Bill Lyden, Brian, Cody P., Me, Andy.

Here I am again bucking with Brian and Gavin cutting hens.

This time Bill's bucking and Mark H. and I are cutting hens.  Mark's an aspiring taxidermist and worked for Knights Taxidermy of History Channel fame for several years.  He's the guy to call if you're in Southeast and need some taxidermy work done.  Double Shovel taxidermy is the name of his business.  Give him a ring if you ever do any hunting up that way.  He's an absolutely great guy.

This is the crew after a long day in the room.  From left to right: Me, Cody A., Brian, Gavin, Mark Y., Cody P., Chris.

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Summer is gone, however, and school is back in session, so I have to make due with what water is left around College Station, and that isn't much.  I've made it my goal for the semester, now that it's finally cooled off, to thoroughly fish the creeks and rivers close to town.  The three main water-bodies are Carter Creek, the Navasota and the Brazos.  I tried fly fishing the Brazos for bream the other day, but had no takers, so I moved to my next target: Carter Creek.  I gave it a visit today and spent some time working up stream from the crossing I entered at.  The only two takers I had were a juvenille bass and a pound-and-a-halfish channel cat.  The water was still a bit off-color from the recent rains, but I don't think that had much to do with it.  The two fish came on a bug I'd tied myself, which was a nice little bit of encouragement. Here's the only picture from the day, my channel cat.

I'm thinking the Navasota may be my next target, but Carter may win over.  As almost all of the water I fish is skinny, and since I mostly fish for bluegill, I've started looking for an ultralight setup.  I'm planning on getting a TFO 3-weight, but am looking for a 3-weight reel.  If anybody knows of a good reel for a reasonable price (remeber I'm a starving college student), I'd appreciate the heads up.

Well it was well over-due and long in production, but that's the update.  I hope to be writing for yall again soon, if the good Lord's willing and the creeks don't rise.

First Casts

I'd delayed posting in hopes of having more material, but there's not been a whole lot going on.  My first full day at Neets I got to go trout fishing.  Neets Creek runs uphill from the bay and Bluff lake is a nice little lake tucked back in the hills.  Despite reports of tiny fish, I vowed to give it a shot.  The fish in the creek were voracious little cutts.  They weren't more than six inces, but they were crashing my elk hair caddis with more ferocity than any bass I'd seen.  Once I even had a cutt jump a full foot out of the water to take a swipe at my fly.  It missed but got an 'A' for effort.  The set-up I used for fishing the creek was an elk hair caddis with a gold ribbed hares ear dropper.  These fish were absolutely beautiful, and at times I had a fish every cast or two.

Along the creek were signs that read:

Finally I came upon Bluff Lake.  The scenery was beautiful, and I even caught a Dolly.

Arrival at Neets Bay

Today's entry shouldn't be as long as yesterday's, but it has pictures!  My entire morning and early afternoon was spent looking around Ketchikan, getting to know the place a bit more, and waiting for my flight to Neets.  I just about drove fellow coworker, Cody, crazy with questions about what we'll be doing, what the staff is like, and where I can fish.  I never knew a day could crawl by as slowly as today did.  Finally five o'clock rolled around and it was time for our flight.  Four passengers, a pilot and plenty of gear were loaded onto the small, single-prop float plane.  I don't know if it's necessary to get cleared for take-off or not, but our pilot pulled away from the dock, drove about a hundred yards and hit the throttle.  The weather has been pretty good the last two days, and the flight really wasn't bumpy.  We soon arrived at the hatchery and unloaded everything.  I found out that I don't have to start work for another two days, which means I get to go fishing!  There's a creek that runs by the bunkhouse and a lake accessable by taking a boat and four-wheeler.  The lakes over at Traitor's Cove apparently have big cutthroat in them.  The guy at the fly shop in Ketchikan said he caught a cutt that went 21" there last year!  Needless to say, I'm going to get over there first chance I get.  I'll be sure to post pictures of my trip up the creek tomorrow.  Here's the pictures I took today.

The Genesis

I feel my first entry should explain my blog's name and why I'm starting this account.  I'm a long time Louis L'Amour fan, and in his autobiography he describes his younger years of travel as his 'yondering years' in which he traveled and learned extensively.  I thought about naming this blog something cliche like 'Alaskan Adventure' but decided I wanted the blog to have more relativity than just reflecting my experiences on this trip.  While the main focus will be my time spent at the Neets Bay Salmon Hatchery, I hope to be able to continue this blog into my fall and spring semesters of college.  Enough about the title and its meaning; let's hear about Alaska!

My seat on the plane was closest to the aisle, or should I say farthest from the window?  I'm sure the husband and wife next to me thought I was a deprived crackhead who'd just seen a Colombian drug shipment run aground with how twitchy I was in my seat.  I was constantly leaning back and forth, straining my eyes to see through the clouds and catch a glimps of the hills and bays that make up Ketchikan.  Upon landing I quickly gather my baggage and get on the ferry that connects Gravina Island and the airport to Revillagigedo Island and Ketchikan.  Everything looked like I expected; low clouds, dark, choppy water, buildings built over the water and on the sides of the hills.  The fact that everything looked as expected made me feel almost as though I was stepping onto the set of a movie.  I anticipated hearing a director yell "Cut!  Get back on the ferry and let's do that scene again!"  I'd had a stroke of luck on the plane, and a guy who was working at the Neets Bay Hatchery was on there with me.  This is his third year at the hatchery we shared a cab and hotel room.  He showed me around town in one of his friends cars, and we even picked up some supplies for the hatchery and delivered them to a plane service.  The town's a narrow strip along the coast, several miles long and only a few hundred yards wide.  My new found friend dropped the keys to our borrowed car on a walkway, and down they went throught the cracks and into the water.  So now we're stranded carless, leaving cabs as our only option.  They're pretty expensive, but then again so is everything up here.  Tomorrow I take my drug test, go to the local fly shop, then fly out to the hatchery.  I'll give y'all an update sometime in the next few days.  I haven't taken any pictures yet, but I'm hoping to take some in the morning.  Talk to y'all soon and tight lines.

-Tom