Do your homework before exploring unknown waters

Every week I get a number of calls and emails from folks telling me that no matter what they do, they just can’t seem to catch anything other than stingrays and sharks. When I hear that, I usually suspect one of two things: They are fishing too deep or they have not done their homework by researching the area they plan to fish.

I can’t imagine being from somewhere like Ohio, putting my brand-new boat in the water around the upper part of the tide and being able to find fish. GPS or not, in situations like this it is all guesswork, and should you land on a wad of fish, all I can say is you are one lucky individual.

So what got me on this subject? This past week a friend of mine called and asked me to travel up to his new place on the other side of Beaufort and hopefully help him find fish. I was up front with him from the get-go and told him it would be the blind leading the blind since I had never fished those waters in my life.

Persistent, he said that was all right — if I just showed him techniques he would be most grateful — so I agreed to come up the next day. To be honest, I had a nervous knot in my stomach the night before I went. Could I put him on some fish in an area that was completely alien to me?

Heeding my own advice that I tell newcomers to this area, I suggested we fish the incoming tide. For one thing, it allows me to see what kind of structure is around, and structure is usually where you’ll find fish. Oyster rakes, riff raff, old docks and things like that. Secondly, since I would be fishing unfamiliar waters, if we ran aground, at least we would have the tide on our side and not have to wait six hours or more to float free.

But the added factor that had me more nervous than all that was that up in the area he was now living, the water isn’t transparent green like it is further south. It is more like chocolate milk, making it twice as hard to see what is front of you, beside you or under you.

Arriving at his house the next morning, he and his 14-year-old son and I hopped onto his brand-new flats boat and headed out. Fairly new to boating, he immediately suggested I run the boat. Talk about upping the pressure — I felt like a teenager getting his license at the DMV with an instructor grading my every move.

Luckily I had looked at the area on Google Earth the night before and printed out the area, circling areas that looked promising.

He had a GPS onboard, but the map didn’t show depths so I had to feel my way up these winding creeks. Once again, I practiced what I preach to new boaters: Don’t go any faster than you would want to hit something.

I was like granny driving a big ol’ Caddy, hands tightly clenching the wheel as I closely watched the depth finder, ready to pull back to neutral the moment I suspected we were getting into shallow water. I did pretty well, and only once did I have to make a U-turn when I noticed an egret walking on water. Since egrets aren’t godly, the only explanation was a sandbar.

After a while, I actually started to get into it. I love exploring new areas and new surroundings. As we made our way up the creek, I hit the “Man Overboard” button on the GPS when I saw places that looked promising because as soon as the tide came in, all those oyster rakes would disappear and there was no way that I would find them again in that dirty water. There was bait everywhere — shrimp, mullet and crabs galore.

Then I saw it: the back of a redfish rooting around near some oysters. Cutting the engine and easing the anchor overboard, I told my friend’s son to pitch his bait up where I had seen that redfish. His cork had barely hit the water when it disappeared and it was “Fish On!”

For the next 40 minutes it was redfish-mania as we caught one after another. Both my buddy and his son were in hog heaven. To make the day even more memorable, as we headed back to the dock I noticed a porpoise acting strangely, much like the tame ones further south.

Cutting the engine, the porpoise came up the boat, stuck his entire head out of water and started begging for food. I knew someone had been feeding that guy but my friend was convinced that I was Dr. Doolittle and Bill Dance put together. I had lucked out from start to finish, and I wasn’t about to burst his bubble.

This story was originally published June 5, 2016 at 1:24 AM with the headline "Do your homework before exploring unknown waters."