Texas Coast Photo Essay

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Becca feeling at home on the salt all images Steve Dally

TASTING salt spray on your lips from a quick run across a light chop is like returning home. You might say the Salt and I have met.

Growing up in a coastal town you either went bush or beach, most of the major milestones of my life were consumated in or by the salt.  We swam, surfed, sailed, skied, snorkeled, studied (and played hooky). Even as an adult, I never lived more than 15 minutes drive from a beach until Arkansas

Over the years I added more waters to the Indian, South Pacific and Southern Oceans, both Atlantics and the North Pacific. To the Tasman Sea and Bass Strait were added the Sea of Cortez and Gulf of Alaska and timewise least of all the Gulf of Mexico.

You might say I’m familiar with the salt, the moodiness and capricious nature interwoven with awe inspiring beauty. The Salt has nearly claimed me a couple of times, and left other scars, but that siren’s call I’ll always heed.

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Motoring away from the ramp at dawn anticipation quickening your heartrate

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The elusive sheepie, yes they do eat flies

In cards, great love and fly fishing, time is everything.

The Bride and I had planned out a tarpon trip to Alligator Point with friend and guide Chip Smith  until 2 days out Tropical Storm Alberto picked the same stretch of sand to make landfall. Storm surge, a foot of rain and mandatory evacuations didn’t sound like a gig we wanted.

Yep now its Friday night ahead of Memorial Weekend, no plans, no accommodation, no idea other than we were going to the salt tomorrow and the closest sunny spot was Texas: Port O’Connor.

Friends, as they do rallied, with guide contacts and the offer of a day’s fishing. Junior and Garrick went above and beyond, Justin and his son Max helped heaps to make the party and helped with logistics. Redfish were hard to find and skittish but I kept the locals happy sticking some of the elusive “prison permit” sheepshead.

Two days later we spent a day with Eric Knipling. Good guide cursed by our impeccable timing to hit the water with  full moon and huge push of water. I blew a huge drum in the marsh, and totally failed to convince a redfish with my presentation, but landed my biggest jack crevalle to date, and Eric whetted my appetite for more of the coast.

Enjoy the pics

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they dress different on the salt: Garrick
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jack crevalle, just tough

 

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Eric and Becca at the barway
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shrimpers
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becca hunting fish
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palms and the texas flag
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another sheepie
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tern
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Justin, Junior and Max

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junior
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that’s an 11 wt
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local color
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colorful locals