By GEORGE FJELD
Carol, Milo, and I left Biloxi, Mississippi (without gambling) with Bean in tow behind Bull. We were headed for New Orleans, or more accurately, Grand Isle, which is 55 miles south of the city. Prior to planning this trip, I really didn’t have a clue that there was land that far south of New Orleans. We didn’t have to swim or take a ferry, just a slew of elevated roads surrounded by the bayou. Along the way, there were a few islands with towns/ports which had a variety of oil drilling and shrimp-fishing boats docked. It was a really different ride through a very unusual environment. Eventually, we reached our destination, the little island of Grand Isle, 8 miles long and 1 mile wide, home to 1,000 people.
In 2021, Hurricane Ida’s eye wall hit the island and damaged all of Grand Isle’s 2,500 buildings, with 700 destroyed. The campground had been closed since but reopened in the spring of 2023. Locals wonder why Mississippi’s barrier island state campgrounds opened earlier than Louisiana’s Grand Isle and with more improvements and amenities thanks to federal recovery funds. They wonder what the government did with the money in Louisiana, a state known for its graft and corruption.
The campground is set parallel to the beach behind the dunes and the “Burrito Levee,” a miles-long artificial tube of geotextile fabric filled with 760,000 yards of sand. The 8.5- foot diameter tube is visible in a few places where recent storms have disturbed the covering sand and foliage. On the other side of the levee is a marvelous flat sand beach with stone breakwaters about 150 feet off the shore. There were lots of pelicans flying back and forth along the coast. I sighted a couple of dolphins following fishing boats headed into the Gulf. They are a sure sign of a good marine environment.
We set Bean up in a spacious pull-through site and connected up the water and electricity. After setting up the awning, we explored the campground. There wasn’t much to see. The pier that had run out into the Gulf hadn’t been rebuilt and the east end of the area was just the way Ida had left it. However, we did meet some of our neighbors and were soon snacking on a few fresh shrimp they offered us. Those shrimp were surely the best campground snack we ever had!
A week earlier, I had met a fella in a bar in Apalachicola, Florida and he recommended a particular fishing technique after I informed him I was after a big redfish. He grew up in coastal Louisiana and knew Grand Isle. “There’s plenty of bull reds there” he claimed. A little information on fishing vernacular: small fish of a particular species are called “dinks,” medium-sized fish are “good fish,” and large fish can be called “bulls.” Honestly though, most large fish are females so would be more appropriately called “cows.” This wording has been adopted by many Northeast striper fisherman, myself included. Back to the technique…This fella claimed that fishing a small 1.5-inch spoon in the shallow coastal waters from shore would catch a “bull.” I was skeptical and I let him know that. But he retorted, “Elephants eat peanuts.” So, a little spoon will be my presentation.
The next morning in Grand Isle saw me wading in the shallow Gulf waters and casting repeatedly. I wandered up and down about a mile of beach without any success. I tried changing lures without any bites. I contemplated switching to bait which I hardly ever do. Talking to one of the 2 other fishermen on the miles of beach, I found out that bait will really only attract the sharks. I had no interest.
After a break for lunch and a short conversation with a camping neighbor, I headed back. Carol came along for the walk and to do some shell collecting. I moved further west down the beach after noticing a little irregularity in the beach. I worked that spoon hard and was about to move on when the big hit came! My 8-foot surf rod doubled over and the line started screaming off my open-faced spinning reel. I worked the fish back in not once but three times after drag pulling runs. I could feel the fish tiring and started yelling to Carol to get the camera out. She was way ahead of me, as usual, and had been filming the whole time! My fish came to the shallows and I was finally able to see her! A massive bull red! I landed her on the beach and after a quick picture and measurement, I returned her to the gulf. She was 41 inches long. You can’t keep the big ones, they are important for breeding and replenishing the stock of fish. Keepers are 18-27 inches only. However, I was not disappointed, really, mostly elated. A giant! It fulfilled my wildest dream! I left on this trip with a wish to catch my first redfish and then if possible, a big redfish. Wishes do come true. I kept fishing for another couple of hours but after only one more bite. I headed back.
To get to the camper, I had to cross the levee. There I ran into a wall of bugs. Mosquitos, huge (even by Vermont standards) and plentiful. Not too bad in the middle of the day with a good breeze but in the evening when the air is still, they came out in droves. I hustled right along, swatting madly as I went. When I was fixing the tarp outside the camper and slapped at my leg when I felt a bite. Boy, was I surprised when I looked down and saw 5 dead bugs! And blood! Man, they are terrible in coastal Louisiana.
Back at the campground, I ran into the same neighbor, and let him know about my catch. After congratulating me, he related that he had been on the professional redfish tour years earlier. Many stories later, he gave me a lure which he promised would catch me another big red. I retired to the camper to rest up and have a little dinner before heading back out for a little evening fishing. Unfortunately, that little lure didn’t produce. But those mosquitos were ferocious!
We didn’t stay long in Grand Isle, mosquitos have a way of making a place less than fun to hang out. Plus, I’d already had my wish fulfilled and we were headed to Texas.
Bean chimes in: I’ve never been around so much water! All the way south there was nothing but water. I began to wonder if we were going to get on a boat. I’ve heard about a kind of boat that cars and trucks drive onto and think it might be fun. But mostly scary! I can’t swim!
