If you've thought about getting out there, now is the time

I told you so! If you read my column two or even three weeks ago, I said that if you had the slightest inkling about going fishing that this was the time to do it. I also said that as the water starts to cool, every fish, shrimp and crab that inhabits our waters will either do one of two things: Stay here and rough out the winter or head south. And from what I've seen lately, I would hate to be waiting in that southbound line because those that have already left are being absolutely hammered morning, noon and night.

I seriously can't remember seeing a mullet run as big as this year's. In the past two weeks alone the mullet have been packed like sardines in what look like living waves. There have been so many you could practically walk across their backs. And if that spectacle wasn't incredible enough, every so often some creature will blast up through the school and all you can see are mullet flying in every direction. I swear it rivals anything you might catch on the Discovery Channel.

Though life and work have not allowed me to be out on the water as much as I would like, the times I've been able to sneak away have been unbelievable. The fishing has been incredible. The shrimp are moving by the tens of millions and everywhere you go the water is alive with action. Starting right at my dock on the May River, I haven't had to go more than a hundred yards to get into the thick of it. Smack dab in the middle of the migrating mullet, menhaden and shrimp, schools of monster jack crevelles have been coming in against the tide and then doing a 180-degree turn and performing the same lazy circles while going the opposite direction as the tide changes. Packed tightly together, jacks that easily push 40-plus pounds laze on the surface -- dorsal fins out of the water -- and slowly swim in circles against the tide. I have been watching this going on day after day and when my boat is in the water, I run out, get in front of the school and shut off the engine. When they get in casting range, I slowly work a jerk bait in front of them and like a sinkhole developing in the water, one snarfs the lure and peels off a hundred yards of line in a matter of moments. They may not be any good to eat but there isn't a stronger, faster fish than a jack.

I can't throw cast nets anymore, but I have managed to nab my nephew Byron to do a bit of deep-holing for them. With the verdict still out on what effect this slam-dunk method of catching shrimp might have on shrimp populations, I think there are so many shrimp in so many creeks around here that it probably doesn't put a dent in the numbers. Using a large cast net with duct tape around the edges, you simply use an electronic fish finder to scour the bottom in the deep holes -- sometimes 60 feet deep. Believe it or not, when you find them, there are so many down there it will look like skyscrapers on the flat bottom. Once I see them, I throw the engine in reverse and he throws the net; the duct tape makes the net open like a parachute as it slowly goes down. We only had to do this one time to get all the shrimp we might want for the next few months. I think we threw six times and caught our limit. A couple of throws yielded around 10 pounds of shrimp per throw. Unbelievable!

With so much going on, it is hard to decide what kind of fishing to do. Trout are everywhere, as are flounder and redfish and they all are gorging themselves right now. But last week I had to try going after the stag redfish because this is the only time of the year they school up. We used cut menhaden for bait while chumming over live bottom, and catching these bruisers was a blast.

I am not sure how much longer this free-for-all will continue but if you have thought about getting out on the water, now is the time. If ever there was a time to take members of the coastal council and town councils out to witness what is at stake in the ongoing fight to save our waters, right now would be that time. I guarantee if they could see just a fraction of what I have witnessed in the past two weeks, there wouldn't be a single argument over the importance of protecting our waters. We are truly blessed here and I just pray it stays that way.

Collins Doughtie is the outdoors columnist for The Bluffton Packet.