Andy Dear | Monday, 22 November 2021
This afternoon my family and I made the three hour drive down to what I now consider my "spiritual home" of Indianola, Tx. For the past 4 years, we have mad it a tradition to spend the week of Thanksgiving somewhere on the coast. It now looks like Indianola will be host to this tradition for the foreseeable future.
Jack and I started fishing here three years ago, specifically because of the history that my dad has here on Powderhorn Lake. When I was a kid, he used to tell me these stories about wade fishing for bull Redfish with a spinning rod and a Johnson Spite Spoon. These stories have been embedded in my grea matter for the better part of 4 decades. Why it took so long for me to find my way down here is a complete mystery that I will never figure out, but better late than never I suppose.
The fishing here is still fantastic, and unlike the adjacent destinations of Port O'Connor, Rockport, and Corpus Christi the crowds simply don't exist here. And, seeing as how my top priority in going fishing is not actually catching fish, but getting the hell away from anything resembling a bipedal hominid, Indianola is the perfect place for me. Sure, the water may not be gin-clear like it is in the Laguna Madre, but this area of the central Texas coast has its own unique history and rugged personality that other more glamorous areas just can't touch. In fact, no more than a 20 minute boat ride from where I sit typing this, is where the famous French explorer René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle sank his ship (one of four), the La Belle in 1685. And not 30 minutes to the north on Garcitas Creek, is where he established one of the earliest settlements in the new world that same year called Ft. St, Louis.
New World history aside, I come here for a different sort of history. For now, three generations of my family have made footprints in the oyster-laden mud that lines the shoreline of this special place, and that is a tradition that I am very proud to have been able to perpetuate. Late this afternoon we launched the MonArk into the far west end of Powderhorn Lake and poled our way down a cordgrass shoreline in a large cove that provided shelter from the breeze. Before the afternoon ended Jackson had brought both a 21" Redfish and an 18" Speckled Trout to hand. Not too bad for less than 90 minutes on the water.
As the sun sank into the horizon Jackson remarked what a beautiful scene we were witnessing...and I agree. As I relayed to him, my favorite time to be on the water...especially the saltwater flats, is October and November. And, preferably in the late afternoon and early evenings. The fishing may be better in the mornings, but there is something special about the evening bite this time of year. Not only are the sunsets spectacular, but the abrasive Texas summer heat has subsided, and the legendary mosquitoes that are big enough to take down a Texas Longhorn Cow have begun to slowly disappear.
Additionally, the MonArk is now officially christened as a Redfish chasing machine. The previous owner told me it had never been in saltwater and was used strictly for Panfish and Catfish on freshwater lakes. Well now this classic old boat has a new story to write in a place where history and tradition run deep, and Jack and I are both honored to function as co-authors in whatever chapters lye ahead.
Hope you're all having a great week,
Andy