The weekend started off with an early morning stroll down the beach…
…with a pimped out canoe in tow and a convoy of trucks and skiffs following not far behind.
We stumbled across a creature washed up and struggling to find it’s way back into the water.
Brandon slammed on the brakes, jumped out of the truck and rushed to help what turned out to be a spinner dolphin.
Apparently a rare find to those in the know who unsuccessfully tried rescuing the same dolphin later that day…
http://www.caller.com/news/2012/oct/19/second-rare-dolphin-dies-friday-after-rescue-at/
Brandon nursed the Dolphin into an upright position until it was strong enough to swim past the second gut. The dolphin appeared to be rattled but it was swimming on its own strength. We did all that what we could.
Brandon didn’t receive any praise from the paparazzi or recognition from the media…just a pat on the back for doing the right thing.
We continued on our way to base camp.
But first a stop to pick up a geocache from a fellow fly flinger who visited the area a week prior.
Any good karma Brandon earned by attempting to save the dolphin quickly evaporated. He was the first to attempt the trail through the dunes. He was the only person to get stuck in our five truck procession. A little tug from behind was all it took to free his truck and boat. He picked up speed on his second attempt and made it through with no issues. We made it to camp relatively unscathed.
We setup our encampment and geared up to fish that afternoon. The last of our group rolled in about an hour later shouting excitedly they had “saved a dolphin”. There were promptly told to “get in line”. They were at least the third such group who had stopped to render aid to the frazzled mammal.
We split up in small groups and fished our separate ways. Winds were already blowing briskly and the overcast skies were not helping our cause. We hoped the fishing God’s would shine down on us, but no good deed goes unpunished. We received little relief from the wind or clouds. Despite poor conditions no one seem to have any troubling finding and catching hordes of these rascals.
Some of our group played in the waves and caught ladyfish until their arms were sore.
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We met back up before dark to swap lies and share drinks…
…and watched the sun set on a day in paradise.
We ate like Caj-Mex royalty. Dinners consisted of delectable sausage, boudin, gumbo and tortilla soup.
Breakfast consisted of huevos rancheros.
Nights were spent gathered around the fire listening to live music or swapping tales.
The next day we woke, ate breakfast and went on our way.
Lots of drum with a few sheepshead, trout, and redfish were landed between our group. I only managed to catch puppy drum and one rat red. A few guys fished the surf again. Sight of jacks, trout, cobia, snapper and poon were reported.
Later that afternoon some of us took naps.
Others worked hard.
While others were just along for the ride.
Back at camp we enjoyed cold drinks…
…and warm showers.
While some enjoyed birthday gifts.
The night concluded with another campfire session.
The third and final day we packed up our footprint…
(most of our footprint anyway)
…and headed back down the beach.
We caught plenty of fish, but the size left a lot to be desired.
We made several stops, but experienced much of the same.
Good times were had by all. I look forward to the next time we get to share lies, drinks, tunes, delicious food, and laughs together on a beautiful playground.
