One fishing trip that will always stand out to me took place on August, 2015, in Winyah Bay with Boy Scout Troop 761. Kevin Bailey, Mason Bailey, Ryan Stephens, Gabe Sherman, and I pulled out of the driveway at 4 a.m. on Saturday morning. After a quick stop at the Ice House for tackle, we launched the skiff at South Island Ferry. The boat was loaded with camping supplies as we had planned to camp on the Shellbank Islands in front of the lighthouse. We set anchor by the island and carried our supplies onto land. What looked like white sandy beaches from the boat were actually piles of oyster shells surrounding the island. Most of us did not have shoes and we braced together while walking in the water to avoid any early injuries. A red fishing tournament was in full swing and we watched as two men in a flats boat fought a red fish near our island. Kevin brought a giant 8 man tent, and we both had room to set our cots inside. Ryan remained on the boat catching bait while we set camp. Arriving back at the boat, Ryan said that we could catch more bait if we get to deeper water.
We anchored just off the island in 14 ft. deep water and dropped bottom rigs with shrimp. One by one, each rod bowed over with a fish. Whiting and croaker make excellent tarpon bait and we quickly filled the live-well. Some of the fish we hooked were much stronger and turned out to be black drum. Most of the black drum were too small to keep but we did manage to catch 7 which measured in excess of 14 inches. This was a hot spot, but I was ready to get the tarpon bait in the water and so we lifted the anchor and rode out towards the jetties.
After anchoring beside the rocks, Ryan, Mason, and Gabe baited their hooks with fiddler crabs, while Kevin and I sent tarpon lines off the stern. We had whiting, croaker, and blue crabs on the hooks and waited anxiously for a bite. The boat rolled back and forth as the waves splashed over the rocks. Ryan, Mason, and Gabe threw their lines into the rocks and started to catch sheepshead. The fish put up a great fight and some, were more than my net could handle. I tossed a fiddler crab into the rocks and had a bite in no time. Ryan managed to land a 21.5 inch sheepshead which he wanted to take to the marina to weigh. Mason caught some black drum and Gabe managed to keep the live-well stocked with fresh whiting. Clouds were building inshore and we decided to head for the island with a full cooler of sheepshead and black drum.
The floating dock was tied to four poles and was not attached to the island. We put our bait fish into a bait pen (cage to keep them alive overnight) and jumped in the water to swim to land. I swam with the tackle and Gabe carried a lawn chair over his head, while Ryan and Mason swam the cooler to land. Kevin had already started a campfire by the tent and placed corn, hobo bags, onions, and hamburger meat on the fire grate. The sky was clear and a comfortable breeze kept the mosquitoes away as we cooked over the fire. After eating, we sat talking by the fire until the only lights to be seen were from the lighthouse in the distance, and occasional blinking channel markers.
Kevin and I both packed our cots but Mason, Ryan, and Gabe had no trouble falling asleep on the ground. Kevin woke me at 3 a.m. and showed me the weather update on his phone. A massive thunder storm had formed over Charleston and was headed our way, which was not ideal. I could see the distant flash of lightning through the tent canvas and the wind was still. Kevin and I talked about our options but, being on an island, those were limited. We secured the chairs and bags outside the tent and hunkered down for the storm. A few drops pattered on the tent and with a gust of wind, it started. Being on Winyah Bay, there were no trees blocking the wind and we all watched the sides of the tent flapping back and forth. At some point during the storm, we all managed to stop worrying and go back to sleep.
I woke the next morning and everything was where we left it; even the dock. It was cloudy outside, and the bay was as calm as glass. I swam to the dock and put our bait fish back in the live-well. Mason, Kevin, Ryan, and Gabe gathered our fishing supplies and hopped on board for round two. We anchored near the mouth of a creek where the water rushes out in the falling tide; sucking all types of small aquatic animals into the bay where the tarpon feed. We set anchor and played the waiting game for about an hour and a half in occasional showers. I had just sat on the back of the boat and opened a pack of lunchables when I heard a great crash behind me. I turned around to see splashes and bubbles all behind the boat and one of the rods shaking violently!
“TARPON TARPON TARPON!!!!!!” everyone yelled, as Ryan dove to disconnect the anchor and Kevin started the engine. I took the rod from the holder and the tarpon leapt from the water and cut several back-flips. I tried to control the fish but there was so much movement that I was unable to reel in the slack. Again, the tarpon surged away from us with his head above the water and threw the hook. Everything happened so fast and the whole troop sat with our jaws dropped, and the deck littered with everyone’s snacks. The rain was getting thick so we packed the campsite and called the day.
We caught many fish over the weekend and even managed to experience the fury of a tarpon.
Even so, I would have to say that the most perfect moment was sitting around the fire on our island, cooking a great meal, and watching the boats going home after a successful day. A meal over the fire in the company of friends is hard to beat!
