Early autumn is generally one of the most productive periods on southern grassflats. Massive numbers of forage species and cooling water can keep fish active in the shallows throughout the day, and kayaking is considerably more tolerable when the temperature and humidity no longer hover around 100.
The one obstacle to catching fish can be floating sea grass. Natural die-offs, storms — even manatees and shrimp boats dredging the bays — contribute to the annual phenomenon. Unfortunately, the stuff gravitates to fishing line and lures, rendering them totally unnatural and repulsive to fish after just a few twitches when the vegetation is really thick. And the gunk doesn’t just float; it often inhabits the entire water column, so switching lures and presentation depth is largely ineffective. Besides, when the fish are in a foot of water, there isn’t much depth to adjust.
Fishing an upwind shoreline reduces the volume of grass to some extent, but changing winds and tides can dump the stuff right back in your lap. Other than keeping the rod tip high and the line out of the water, which makes it hard to properly present most lures, it’s hard to effectively counteract the suspended salad.
Of course, one group of anglers is used to separating the fish from the veggies — the bass guys. While the two scenarios differ significantly, some of the freshwater tools adapt nicely to flats species, particularly redfish.
Pitch a weedless frog into the nastiest shoreline cover, brush or lily pads, and it crawls, swims and tumbles through the obstacles and emerges clean. Granted, frogs aren’t typical fodder along saltwater shorelines, but let’s face it — redfish aren’t overly blessed when it comes to analytical powers. Beyond an obviously easy meal, who knows how they interpret a silhouette twitching seductively overhead? As I say about any lure, if it’s the right size, has eyes and comes from the proper direction in a natural fashion, it’s just food.
When throwing topwater lures, I generally prefer walk-the-dog types when fishing open flats. They cover a lot of water quickly, and between the rattles and pronounced wake, they call up fish from a distance, making them great prospecting tools. However, when the reds cozy up to a grassy shoreline, I often switch to a small, more subtle chugger or popper for a couple reasons.
With either the frog or popper, I can hold the rod tip high, keeping most of the line above the loose surface grass. As long as I employ very short, subtle twitches, I can work the lure more effectively than I can a walk-the-dog topwater, suspending twitchbait or soft-plastic. Secondly, that little bloop emanating from the popper helps push the floating grass out of its path.
I generally employ a LiveTarget Glass Minnow Popper for this purpose. Shorelines are inundated with glass minnows or small pilchards this time of year, so they’re a natural target species; however, once again, any small lure twitching overhead is just as likely to be misinterpreted as a crab skittering along the surface. The main reason I like the LT popper is simply that it’s easier to manipulate to fit my needs. To make it more weedless, I remove both trebles and employ just a single rear hook. Because the rear hook anchor on this particular lure is horizontal, I can attach one of the many commercially available weedless single hooks utilized throughout the bass industry without adding a second split ring.
Yes, you’ll whiff on a few hookups, but these adaptations will allow more time fishing and less time shaking the grass off your lure.
