“Don’t know what aggravates me more…ticks, mosquitos, or the sweltering humidity!” I commented swapping a pesky little vampire while mopping my brow, then watching a tick crawl up my pant leg. Thankfully it later bailed when it sensed I had strayed my clothing with Sawyer’s Permethrin. Charlie Buchen, ace Wildlife Systems Guide, smiled at my comment then pointed in the direction of sand dunes that separated us from the Gulf of Mexico. “Just saw a big blue bull cross between the dunes headed toward the liveaok motte. We need to get a better look at him!”
For the past days, we had been literally chasing nilgai antelope over loose sand, traversing “sticker burrs”, cactus and thorny mesquites. We had stalked several bulls. Each time Charlie said, ”Mmmmm, we can do better!”. What he really meant, was “If we shoot that one, we’ll have to drag him out out of there rather than loading him in the back of the pickup.” I was not disputing his decisions. Over a lifetime of hunting I have packed more than my share of big animals out of “Hell’s Four Sections”!
Stopping in the shade of a mesquite, Charlie asked, “You going fishing after taking your nilgai?” I knew Charlie was not only a top big game guide but one of the better fishermen on the Texas coast.
“Yes Sir, fishing with two old friends, Jim Zumbo and Rick Lambert.” Zumbo was long the hunting columnist for Outdoor Life and had an even longer career in outdoor television. Lambert had a most interesting law enforcement career. More recently his claim to fame is being Miranda Lambert, the talented entertainer’s father. We planned to fish with Bamm Bamm Charters based in Port Mansfield. “Zumbo, Lambert and I are firm believers of catch and release in a hot skillet.” Charlie smiled.
After catching up, we passed the nilgai he had seen. Headed back to the distant vehicle we spotted a dark steel grey bull, a sure sign of maturity. His horns were obvious and dark, easily at least 9-inches long. A truly good bull. We conferred briefly then determined an approach.
Thirty minutes later my .375 Ruger Hornady bullet dispatched my nilgai. After photos and field-dressing we got the pickup, loaded the bull and headed to the cooler. I planned to take all the delicious nilgai meat home with me.
Next day I met Jim and Rick. The three of us have hunted and fished with each other whenever our ridiculous schedules allowed.
We met Captain Chad Kinney and Tom and Mike Snyder, mutual friends and who created Trinity Oaks, the charitable organization that takes wounded hero/warriors, veterans, children and especially those with disabilities and serious health issues hunting and fishing. We soon headed toward the soon to rise sun.
“We’ll start out fishing for red snapper. I have a couple of secret spots.” He hesitated, “Well, maybe not so secret. I took y’all there last year.” Finding that same “spot”, every time we dropped a lure we caught red snappers. They ranged from about 8 to about 12-pounds. We soon had our limit.
I like fishing for red snapper. They are gorgeously colored, fight extremely hard, and, are absolutely delicious fried and/or grilled. I have learned too, the “cheeks” many discard when cleaning them are unbelievably delicious when prepared over an open fire and seasoned with lemon juice, butter, garlic and salt!
Soon as we caught our five-person red snapper limit we headed to another area. We soon caught a couple of hard-fighting, excellent tasting tuna.
Salt-water fish tend to hit harder and fight longer than freshwater fish, or so it seems to me. Love it! Fishing for tuna, we too hooked a couple of brilliantly colored, and equally delicious dorado or mahi-mahi.
A few minutes later Zumbo hooked a 6-feet long shark. Being the capable fisherman he is, Jim gave all of a lesson in how to fight big fish! Finally, he brought it alongside. The first mate unhooked and released it.
We were soon trolling for billfish. Years ago while fishing out of Port Aransas I caught a sizeable sailfish. After I brought it alongside we tagged and quickly released it. I was relaxing when I saw a billfish chasing one of the teasers. He quickly moved toward a baited hook. Moments later I had a marlin on the line! He fought bravely for several really long, muscle-straining minutes, to the the point I questioned why did I think this was fun?
The marlin jumped numerous times, then went deep. I pumped the rod and reeled in whatever line I could. Muscles in my arms and back all but screamed!
Then finally, I started taking in line. Minutes later I brought him alongside. As with my sailfish, we tagged and released the marlin without bringing him on-board. We had taken a rough length measurement, marking spots on the side of the boat. “One hundred and eight inches! Obviously a male! Congratulations” shouted the Captain.
I merely nodded, too spent to acknowledge beyond. I was tired but truly thrilled to have caught and released such a great fish.
Yes Sir, Yes Ma’am! Turf and salty surf! It’s that time of the year! After all mankind cannot live on venison alone!
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