Rolled into the fabulous Galliano Inn Friday, just in time for dinner. I was bunking with Josh Redd and Ryan Allemand. Butch Ridgedell was next door. Frank Lee and Jerry Cottrell were 2 doors down. Chris and Janie Murphy were at the other end. They declined dinner as Chris had broken two rods riding the bulls and was hunting replacements. The snooty board members were staying a couple miles away but were napping late, so didn’t attend. We all rolled into MeMaws and settled down. The waitress does a funny trick with an empty bowl like she’s spilling it on you and Jerry was the unlucky subject. He was so tired he had about a 5 second delayed reaction time, but nonetheless he was very entertaining, and a good sport to boot. The meal was great and as usual, the conversation was “where ya fishin tomorrow?”. I had a loose plan and everyone talked about what they thought, but was tight lipped. Frank had had an extremely successful scouting day in Catfish Lake and one of the board members had reported a limit of nice trout at Fourchon, so options were wide open. After dinner, Butch and I went over to Sonic for a shake drawing envy from the others, who had the same opportunity by the way. Shortly after, everyone crashed for some rest.
Saturday
The alarm was set for four, but as usual, I woke up about 15 minutes early and turned on the coffee pot for a cup of Cafe Bustello. That’ll get you going. Got my stuff together and rolled out by 5. Stopped at Rouses ice machine and rolled south. A little birdie had told me that the pass was still on but I questioned my decision as I passed Topwater. I could see Josh and Ryan launched at Lance’s from the toll bridge. I hooked the left so Fourchon was out. Passed the Forbidden Hole and bridges, crossing the bridge and pulled into Bridgeside. I was launching at the same time as a 35′ catamaran, cool. I pulled to the end of the marina and waited, alone. I wondered how many people were doing the same, in a crowd.
At 6, I started pedaling through a light breeze with very little current and first light, pretty easy but with great anticipation. I was taking an all or nothing risk. Shortly afterwards, I started throwing my Bomber topwater. After 20 minutes without even a blowup, I started throwing a 4″ white and silver flake swimbait on a 1/4 oz Deathgrip jighead. On the second cast I got a bump, hooked up, landed, photod and submitted a 16.75″ trout, around 630am. Relief filled my mind as adrenaline revved up my body. At 637 I photographed number 2 at 14.5″. It was dissapointing but I’d rather have a 14.5 than nothing. Shortly after, I got a text from the judge critiquing my pics and at 645 I photographed a 19″ which took about 6 shots as she just wouldn’t relax, until she rested in my nice, cool ice chest. By that time, I had light and could see the water was crystal clear, to about 4 feet. It’s awesome seeing a trout hit your bait at a distance, then watching it all the way to the net! At 653 it was an 18″, already over 60″! At 7am it was a 17.5″ with a deformed tail that could have been bigger, but I had 5 trout! At 713 I upgraded to a 14.75. So much for that iffy pic. At 741 it was a 16.75, then a 17 at 812, 18 at 850. I was catching fish, but not the size I wanted. I have a unofficial measuring sticker on my HRail so anything over 13.5 went in the ice chest and overboard otherwise. Didn’t get another bite and at 10 and headed back to the launch. I watched a guy catch 3 18+” trout right in front of me from the rocks by the marina but I couldn’t get a hit. He said I needed pink with a yellow tail. Gotta get me some o them! I could have had lunch and gone back to the room for a nap, but I moved north. I haven’t mentioned that except for two pathetic boat fishermen, no one else was around, which is a golden feeling on tournament day. Two trucks by Elmer’s but otherwise I didn’t see another truck with a bed extender or trailer all the way to the toll bridge. Unbelievable. I took the toll bridge so I could see kayaks in the water to help me decide on my next launch spot. I drove slow and saw no one near the Old LA1 turnoff so there I was, making an illegal turn. I launched by one of the power pole pads and was pedaling out. I saw a couple paddlers around Lance’s but figured they were paddling novices. Then I saw a PA headed in the same direction. It was Shane Meeks, we waved from a distance as he stopped to fish. I pulled up on an island throwing the 4HorsemancorkconBiomBoom and caught another pesky 15, then a couple more. Then my cork disappeared and reel started screaming. That wasn’t a trout, but a bull red. 15 minutes wasted to get my tackle back. Moved to another island and caught a couple more. There were some intermittent clouds so I started throwing topwater. Got a huge blowup and saw the bull. I tried to pull the topwater away but he was hungry. Again, wasted time to save tackle and the bull had swallowed my topwater. Lovely. I saw a kayak coming towards me and it was Ryan. I’d heard he was a little ahead of me and chided him. I wasn’t giving up! At 128 I caught a 17, which was a .25″ upgrade. Made my last cast at 159 and started pedaling back, with hope.
When I got to my launch location, Shane was waiting for his dad to pick him up, dejected, as was I. I’d talked to Butch on the way back and knew I hadn’t won, but was probably in the money. I showed Mike Meeks my box at the launch an he said he’d seen others and I’d smoked em. I was loading up and noticed it was 230. The board had announced that the awards ceremony would be around 3, with food in Golden Meadow. Was there a deadline? Was 3pm a cutoff? The board wasn’t very specific except that one must be present to win, so I drove like an idiot and pulled up right at 3, so I could park next to Josh and watch him get a beer out his truck. Some things never change. I had a little gumbo, traded pleasantries and Sean began with awards. I placed 4th out of over 50 entrants and yielded $200. Not bad for an old fat guy. An even older guy, Butch Ridgedell won the whole damn thing! After the ceremony talked to a bunch of people about their day with relief that I’d gotten a heads up and rolled with it.
If there was a dosgris award for this tournament, it would be shared by Jerry Cottrell and Robert Burkhardt, who had an excellent plan, executed very poorly. They dropped a vehicle at the Leeville public launch, and launched at Catfish Lake, 12 miles away, against the wind and tide. Yeah. They were smart enough to turn around and make the awards ceremony. I’m not sure if anyone would have gotten the turtle hat, but at least one “seasoned” tournament fisherman would have received the skunk award, DT. Went back to the luxurious Galliano Inn and cleaned fish on the second nicest fish cleaning table in Lafouche Parish, that I know of. 14 trout made nearly a gallon of fillets. Ryan had beaten me by an 1.5″ so I congratulated him, then dogged him out a little, as competitive fishermen do, before he headed home. Butch and the Murphey’s had also left, so Luke Beslin joined the rest of us at the best restaurant in Lafouche, Cher Amie’s in Cutoff. Everyone except me had the petit filet with fried soft shell crab, lump crabmeat and bernais sauce while I had hamburger steak with onions, mushrooms and gravy, after the fabulous blue cheese wedge. Ahhhhhhhhh. Josh and I skipped the bread pudding, walked off dinner at Walmart so I could peruse the fishing department and reload on coffee, before heading to Sonic for shakes, of course. We didn’t last long after that.
Sunday
Josh and I slept in, till 5 and launched at Lance’s shortly after 6, where Jerry joined us. They went on one side of an island and I, the other. When we met on the other side, they had 2 each and I hadn’t had a blowup. Had a trout come out of the water for my bait, but miss. Shortly after I hooked up on a fatty that got off at the boat. Didn’t get another bite for a while. Josh and I were sitting on a point casting into a current line laden with mullet. He asked me if I’d caught a fish yet and my cork went down do I could say yes. A few minutes later I cast to a point and my cork disappeared, followed by screaming drag. Yes, another bull, except this time Josh had his big nasty measuring board for my big nasty 38″ bull. I got an upgrade on Massey’s at least. Didn’t catch another fish for an hour and it was a decent trout. We found Jerry where we’d left him and they both dogged me out, all in good fun. I hooked a red right in front of them and it got off. Again, we exchanged pleasantries. Pretty much pedaled back, loaded up and rolled.
Awesome weekend and event! Thanks to the club and board for putting it on. Congratulations to the winners and competitors, most submitted a fish! Couple notes. I’m personally not real pleased with the 2pm cutoff. It’s been 3 for every CPR in the past and an hour can change a lot of things. Next, the awards ceremony time was vague. Was there a cutoff and if so, should be explained as such. I’m sure these and many riveting questions will be answered before the next CPR tournament, and I can’t wait!
Good write up as usual. I see a second job as a writer for you. Seriously. Wish you luck on the final