Aqua Webs

A cast net makes me think of a spiderweb.  The fisherman prepares his throw by getting his net ready and in casting position.  Sometimes the fisherman throws blind and other times at movement in the water usually displayed on top with a swirl . The fisherman makes his cast and has to wait for the net to settle on the bottom before starting a slow retrieval.  Have you ever seen a bug hit a spiderweb and the spider come greedily charging out of hiding the second she feels the web vibrate with her prey's movement.  The spider  at that point has no idea whats in her web.  It's the same for the cast net fisherman.  The fisherman usually knows if the cast was a success before his eyes scan the net.  The net fisherman is just like the little spider, he feels the bumping and vibration of the net long before he sees the fish splashing beneath the water.  The size of the fish is usually not that much of a mystery either you can tell by how hard the net jumps with the swimming fish darting around inside.  What can be a surprise is the amount of fish in the net.  As a child I can remember my father one time filling a 48 quart cooler with fish after one cast.  That doesn't happen as often now but sometimes we still get lucky and hit the big cast and catch 10 or more fish.  My family went to Orange Beach on Saturday and we dodged the thunderstorms and threw the net a little.  It was no banner day and we even made a stop at one of the fish markets in Bon Secour on the way home to make sure we had enough for dinner.  Even the bad days fishing are great when spent with family making memories that will last a life time.

Emily, Sydnee and Gavin

  My nephew Gavin wanted to give the ten foot cast net a try.

Emily and her cousin Sydnee playing with a hermit crab.

Emily and Sydnee checking out a small silver mullet

Fish and kabob's on the grill.

If you have questions or comments on this story please forward them to alakingfish@gmail.com

Shelby Byrd

Seeing Red

Have you ever pitched the perfect game or hit a hole in one.  Have you ever done something so memorable that you will never forget it.  It's like a wedding date or a first date.  The memory is like rust on a old pickup truck, you can cover the rust with paint but it keeps coming back.  Every year in the fall I get that feeling, the date is burned in my mind.  This is a story that I've told before but it never gets old for me.  I like to relive that night in my mind.  It's like ripples in the sand on that beach in South Alabama it keeps returning no matter how much time passes by.   

The day began with a beautiful sunrise and a nice southwesterly breeze.  I called the crew and started arranging the plans for the afternoon.  It was going to be a very special day.  After many hours of preparing the rods and reels, finding the mantels for the lantern, and loading up the cart, we were ready to begin the journey.  I picked up my father, George, and we were off to watch my nephew in his last football game of the year.  This was going to be his big day.  Chase had excelled in school all year and won numerous awards so his Aunt Jennie and I promised him a Fort Morgan fishing trip.

The game was a thriller Chase had a huge catch at the wide receiver position, and made numerous tackles on the defensive side of the ball.  My father and I were very proud of his performance. After the game Chase changed clothes and was on his way to the fishing trip of a lifetime.  We met other friends in the area and were off to locate bait.  After several stops and no luck we were beginning to get frustrated when the voice of wisdom spoke up and suggested the perfect spot for finding the silver pogey, which we were hunting.  Elvin was the official cast net slinger, and he lived up to expectation. With the first cast he filled the bottom of the five-gallon bait bucket, and then followed up with the mother load.  Having plenty of bait and a good feeling we were on our way racing against the sun.  Ideally we would arrive at the beach before sundown.

Fort Morgan Alabama at Sunset while fishing.

Along the way we made several stops for ice, drinks and burgers.  In line at the Checkers drive-thru I placed an order for two cheeseburgers, my father ordered a burger combo with fries and Chase ordered a large burger with fries. As we pulled up to the pickup window the inquisitive mind of the youngster went to work, and out came the question, “Uncle Shelby, what are you going to do with that extra hamburger?”  Laughing as we left we were on our way to battle with the prehistoric looking, large scaled fish, called the bull red fish.  The drive from Gulf Shores down to Fort Morgan seemed to take an eternity due to the anticipation of battling with the huge fish. 

We arrived at the rustic old fort about thirty minutes later, and began to load the metal cart, which we would pull through the sand to our destination approximately a mile away.  This is quite a chore that requires a strong back and determination.  The excitement begins to build as you dig your feet into the sand.  The sun had begun its decent into the horizon looking like a huge ball of fire melting into the planet.  You could see the oil rigs standing tall out of the Gulf; each one is a mini city with lights everywhere.  We trudged down the beach, David and I pulling the cart as Elvin was toting his small son Noah on his back.  My father, and Chase had the beach chairs on their backs, and Justin was bringing up the rear with the bait bucket.  There were several rest stops on the way, but not for long as the little guys were ready to go.

As we came around the point we could see several mini camps with rod polls standing tall in the sand.  We had to weave our way through the obstacle course of chairs, rod and reels and the other anglers standing along the beach.  Along the way we passed several people fighting fish, and one fellow landed a small sand shark, which drew a small gathering of spectators.  Our blood began to pump through our veins faster than before, and just then we saw what the trip was all about. There on the beach laid about a half a dozen of the beautiful fish we were after.  It seemed some of the other parties were having good luck.

We had to bypass our favorite spot on the beach since another group had already setup camp.  David and I pulled our cart on around the point to the Gulf side.  Usually the ideal spot is the highest spot on the beach, this gets your rod tip up higher in the air, which prevents the crashing waves from pulling the line in the water, and will eventually wash your bait to the beach.  The spot we picked was directly on Dixie Bar where the surf is the highest.  I started driving the rod holders in the sand and getting the other gear laid out. Chase was on his first trip and was not wasting any time.  I believe he had the bait in the water before the sand settled under the cart.  George and Elvin were baiting hooks while David started the lantern. Noah and Justin were cutting the bait.  It had all started to fall in place. 

George Byrd at Fort Morgan

Before I got the second rod holder in the ground, George yelled “FISH ON”!!!  Chase had the fight of his life before him.  He was holding the eleven-foot rod high in the air as he fought the monster; the fish had headed for the deep water.  A battle of tug of war would ensue.  Chase mastered the technique very quickly, he learned to pull back on the rod and then reel down to the fish.  Shortly after Chase’s battle began George hooked up with a nice fish also.  After a ten-minute fight Chase had landed and released the first fish of the evening.  With a big smile on his face he ran around and gave the group a high-five and grabbed more bait.  David was trying to get the lantern started and Elvin was getting Noah adjusted and in a chair.  Meanwhile George had landed his twenty plus pound fish. The group had planned to rotate reeling in the fish but the bite was too fast.  By the time the bait hit the water the line would pull tight and the reel would scream for mercy. At some point we had five rods out with five fish on. 

Elvin Byrd holding nice Bull Redfish, David Byrd background

My job became fish releaser and tackle rigger.  I released more than twenty-five fish in two hours.  David had brought a fifteen-foot surf rod, which soon earned the name cellular one.  This was in reference to the fact that the rod should have had a red light on top to keep small planes from colliding into it.  Chase was forever looking for a challenge so when the big rod jerked he ran and grabbed it.  The fight of the night was on.  He actually sat down on the beach and planted his heels in the sand to keep the fish, which had the leverage on him, from dragging him in the water.  After a short time he asked for help, which we would not provide.  He eventually landed the fish that was close to thirty pounds.  He then proceeded over to where dad and me were standing and asked, “Uncle Shelby are you going to eat that other hamburger”?  The last thing I remember after that was Chase saying something about the burger being cold after the last bite was gone.

Chase Byrd Fort Morgan Alabama

Everyone’s arms were sore and we could barley stand, so the group decided to leave the fish biting to catch again another day.  We kept a few fish for the grill and took several pictures, and have enough good memories to last a lifetime.  After loading the cart, we started the long hike back to the truck.  When we reached the trucks we said our goodbyes and dad, Chase and I loaded our gear and started the hour and a half ride back home.  I don’t think we made it out of the gates at the Fort before Chase had fallen asleep in the back seat.  I thought several times on the way home about who was the happiest, the grandfather, the uncle or the little boy who had the trip of a lifetime. 

All in all we had caught about 40 fish that night.  The next day would find dad, Chase and me trying to determine who had bragging rights on the biggest fish.

Justin, George and Chase at Fort Morgan Alabama

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Thanks for reading.

by Shelby Byrd

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Just plain Lucky

Did you ever know a man who had the luck when it come to hunting and fishing?  When I go fishing I find myself developing excuses on why I didn't fill the cooler up with fish.  The classic blame it on the moon "The moon wasn't right I guess".  Or how about this one  "I need to take this cast net and have it looked at, I know it needs some patching".  The same thing can happen hunting.  Here is a classic huntingism "Well I'm going to have to shoot this gun when we get home the scope must be off".  Here is one of my personal favorites "The wind was wrong and that deer smelled me".  No matter what excuse we pull from our arsenal it doesn't change the facts that in the end we failed to execute.  It's rare but sometimes we hear or see people who break the mold and live to a higher degree in the outdoors.  They have a few less weapons in there excuse stockpile.

My father George Byrd (Left) with a 12 pt. in 1964 with Butch Malone

   We call them lucky or as my good friend Joe likes to say "That guy has a horseshoe around his neck".  Or maybe it's "the luck of the Irish".  It could be that those guys don't have a black cat living on their street.  But I think in the end it comes down to execution.  This Rare Breed Outdoors Man takes advantage of the opportunities that come their way.  I was mullet fishing with my father the other day and as usual he was spanking me pretty good.  And I thought about what I was doing different than him.  My net was opening most of the time.  I was casting directly beside him but he was catching ten fish to my one.  I think I realized the difference.  He was throwing a little further out than me and creating his own advantage.  It's the little things we do that make the difference.  This holds true in all parts of life and really shows up outdoors as well.  My fathers old Remington Wingmaster and his Browning Medallion have killed more deer than black tongue.  He's killed deer when no one else was even seeing deer.  I know the secret why and if you keep reading you will too.  Luck might really play a part in it.  What's the old saying "I'd rather be lucky than good any day".  But I think it goes back to creating your own advantages.  Picking proper stand placement for wind direction.  Wearing good cover scent.  Taking the time to put out a good scent attractant for your target species.  If we concentrate more on the little details it will help the bigger picture.  What does our beloved Alabama football coach say "dominate the player in front of you one play at a time".  That holds true in hunting and fishing as well.  I'm going to make this cast count then I'll check the catch in the cooler when I'm done fishing.

George Byrd with 2 nice Bass

    And the main things that you must do to produce is not a secret.  First you must be in the woods to kill a deer.  That sounds simple but it takes some dedication.  You have to hunt when its hot sometimes, you have to fish when the wind is blowing.  It's hard to kill a deer sitting on the couch. When you get a chance on a deer you have to make it happen.  Make the shot count, use good shot placement and know when to take your shot.  That's one of the things that's consistent about my father he just simply doesn't miss when he takes his shot.  I can count on my hands how many times over the years when he pulled the trigger and we didn't have meat on the table.  Over the years growing up we were members in a few clubs and he was called lucky by some and hunt master by others.  But growing up around him and seeing his dedication to his family, faith, hunting and fishing, my brother Leo and I knew the secret and we called him DAD.

George Byrd and Shelby Byrd (Me)

Huge 6pt. for South Alabama bottomed the scales out at 210lbs

11pt. Buck

George Byrd

Nice 9 pt.

George Byrd

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Thanks for reading

S.Byrd