One fish two fish, red fish blue fish

Actually would've been happy with one or two fish, certainly saw a lot of red fish. Like all first ascents into a new biosphere pursuing a new species I was the proverbial duck out of water. The kayak thing was fine, but there was minimal standing up and definitely no casting while standing. The drill was to paddle to an area where you could see and hear reds wallowing in the foot deep water, stealthily as possible hop out of the kayak, sink to your shins in muck and cast to the closest most recent disturbance. Several times I felt certain I was right on the dudes dinner table but stripping didn't get any attention and letting the fly just drop into the grass and out of sight didn't seem to make sense. The casting distances were tolerable, 30-40 feet, some closer. What was comical was when I'd be out of the kayak, anchored to the lagoon floor facing one direction only to glimpse a roll to my right or left and try to turn at my waist and cast in that direction with feet still planted. Course that wasn't as comical as the two times my tether to the kayak dropped off my wading belt and I'd look up from a strip to see my ride catching the breeze and scooting away, enlisting a panicked slow motion plunge complete with terrible sucking sound. Yah, and try getting your fly line untangled from your legs when your feet are cemented in 18" of goo. I'm actually proud that I survived the day with out a single face plant in the turtle grass. I can only imagine the dilemma of both feet and hands (and reel) sucked into the muck- that might yield the first piscator drowning in a foot of water!

Well, I can saw the barrier has now been officially broken. Maybe next year I can spend 2 or 3 days flailing away until it clicks. But for this time, my last day in salt country will be spent with 50,000 of my closest friends waiting in line to touch Harry Potters Wand! When I do, I'm gonna cry out, "redfishimus catcherosa expeliromus!". Couldn't hurt.