After such a successful fishing trip the weekend before, Bo Hutchison and I planned yet another fishing trip to Georgetown the following weekend to catch more of the great Bull Reds which are moving into the shore in greater numbers as the season draws on. My brother, Dawson Jordan, was in town and rode with me to Georgetown Saturday morning. We arrived at the boat landing to see Bo and two of his buddies from Rock Hill, Cole and Jordan. Bo backed his boat in the water, and we pushed off from the dock at 10AM. We were not in any rush this time because we had the bow loaded down with our camping supplies and planned to pitch our tents on the beach for the night to fish Sunday as well. Bo hit the gas, and we raced down the river towards the beach.
The forecast called for clear skies and a strong NE wind. This is the worst wind direction for fishing because the wind is coming from the ocean and blows large waves to shore. Even the inland river was speckled with white caps over the waves and we questioned what kind of waves we would encounter as we reach the inlet. We pulled up to the beach where we planned to make camp in the dunes. The sand meets the ocean at a steep drop, and we could pull the bow onto the sand without the fear of getting stuck. We unloaded our bags and pitched our tents in a depression surrounded by dunes in order to block the wind. As soon as the tents were set, we jumped back into the boat and rushed into the inlet to start fishing.
Richard Calhoun and Ryan Stephens were already anchored in the bay, and we anchored about 100 yards away with our radios on the same channel so we could share our luck. Ryan’s rod tip was bent, and we all focused to see what he was fighting. Ryan eventually pulled up a sting ray and shook the hook from its mouth. Sting rays are among the most annoying things to catch because they cling to the bottom and try to sting you as you remove the hook. Our bait consisted of live blue crabs, shad, and mullet. I have a special way of rigging the blue crabs by breaking off the hard back shell, exposing the meat and putting more scent in the water. I also break the claws off which makes it appear to be an easier meal for the fish. Bull reds eat full sized blue crabs all year long and probably get pinched every now and then. The easier the meal, the quicker the fish can make up its mind to attack. We lifted the anchor and moved to a section where the current passes between two sandbars. We sat at anchor for about 30 minutes, and Dawson noticed some commotion on one of the rod tips. It bounced ever so slightly, and Dawson fed line to the fish for some time before tightening the drag and applying pressure. We used large pieces of meat for bait which eliminates most sting rays from fitting the hook in their mouth but may take more time for a bull red to swallow it. Dawson fought the red fish as it twisted and ran next to the boat. Dawson was in a tug of war match and would gain some line until we hear the zing sound of line being pulled from the reel. Finally, Bo gained control of the fish and pulled it into the boat as the crowd cheered. Red fish fight with all they’ve got but know when they have been beaten. Once the red fish is in hand, he no longer thrashes or attempts escape. Dawson’s red fish measured to be 40 inches long but was fatter than almost any bull red that I had seen.
The wind was howling and the waves made anchoring a difficult feat. Even when the anchor was set firmly on the bottom, a wave would lift the bow of the boat enough to pull the anchor from the sand. Richard and Ryan eventually turned around and headed up river, but we stayed and fished for the majority of the afternoon. The fish were not biting no matter what we placed in front of their nose, so we decided to venture to front street in Georgetown for supper. Winyah Bay was extremely windy, and everyone on the boat was wet from the sea spray. We tied the boat off at the docks and left our jackets on the boat because the inland air was warm without the wind. We were not the only fishermen who wanted to eat at the Big Tuna for supper; the room was packed.
We asked others how they did fishing, and they were eager to share the methods that worked best for them. Cole mentioned the soft shell crab that they serve at the restaurant, and most of us decided to try it. A soft shell crab is caught and cooked right after it sheds its shell. I started the day putting these blue crabs on hooks, and now we were eating them.
We only packed 2 small tents and did not have room in them for all five of us. Bo and Jordan were going to have to sleep by the fire at night. Jordan asked the owner of the restaurant if he had a tarp which he let us borrow for the night. The wood framed umbrellas over the tables had all been replaced, and he insisted that we take an umbrella with us as well. We did not have any use for it and agreed to take it back to camp. We left the restaurant to play pool at Castaway’s next door. It was dark and we had a 40 minute boat ride back to our campsite, so we quit playing and walked back to the boat.
We situated the large umbrella on the boat and bundled up in our jackets for a cold ride back to camp. The moon was bright, and it was easy to see the edges of the marsh grass as we sped down the North Santee back to our campsite. We reached the campsite and quickly dug a hole and started a fire. The umbrella came in handy because it protected the flame from the wind. Soon, we had a raging drift wood fire, and we sat around talking for the night. We planned to wake up at 6am so we could be in the water fishing by 6:30, so we called it a night. Cole and I crawled into my tent while Dawson had a small tent to himself. Bo cuddled with Jordan outside on the tarp by the fire under some thick wool Citadel blankets. The wind was howling and the sides of my tent seemed to lie down under the pressure. I woke in the middle of the night because of a sudden bright light in the tent. I unzipped the door to see what was happening and saw Jordan throwing the umbrella in the fire to keep warm. I am glad that I had a tent.
We rose Sunday morning as the dawn broke over the ocean. The fire was still burning, and the two sleeping on the tarp made it through the night. We boarded the boat and were fishing in no time. The wind was even stronger on Sunday, and we could not set the anchor firmly.
The worst thing that could happen would be to not pay attention and drift into the sandbar where the waves would be crashing over the boat, so we decided to move away from the breaking waves and allow the boat to drift in deeper water. We hooked one red fish and lost it but caught a tiger shark as well as a sting ray. The fishing was slow. Everyone was tired of the wind, so we called the day at 10 and drove up river to the boat ramp.
This was the first time that I had ever camped on a beach; it seems to be illegal anywhere else. Sitting around the fire and sleeping while listening to the waves crashing was a unique change from my past trips. We had a great time on the water and managed to catch a fish in the unpleasant weather. I always tell myself that I should cancel a fishing trip when the wind reads NE, but I will forget the lesson again by that time. The best time to fish is when you have room on the calendar.
