[StBernard] A Year After the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill, a Perfect Day for a Redfish

[Westley Annis]

A Year After the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill, a Perfect Day for a Redfish
By CHRIS SANTELLA
NEW ORLEANS - Near a marina in St. Bernard Parish, slightly south and east
of New Orleans, a sign read, "Caution Boaters: Do Not Disturb Booms in
Water." Yet as Gregg Arnold, a fly-fishing guide, navigated his skiff
through the labyrinthine channels that slice through this portion of the
Biloxi Marsh, there were no signs of booms, or the oil unleashed by the
explosion of the Deepwater Horizon rig last April 20.

In fact, there was not much of anything - no oyster boats, no shrimp boats,
no other anglers. Just the occasional kingfisher perched on a branch,
seabirds diving for bait and intermittent splashes that indicate big
redfish.

Redfish, or red drum, are not widely known as a sport fish outside of the
Gulf Coast. (Because of the chef Paul Prudhomme, they were once more likely
to be encountered blackened on a plate than on the end of your line.)

The fish's name is somewhat misleading, as redfish tend toward an iridescent
gray, with a coppery patina on the back and upper sides; their most
distinguishing characteristic are black spots near the base of the tail.
Redfish have many commendable traits for fly-fishers - they are plentiful,
they often frequent shallow water close to shore, they are tenacious
fighters, and they are very willing to take a fly.

"I like to call them user-friendly," Arnold said.

The Biloxi Marsh encompasses hundreds of miles of shallow water along
Louisiana's northeastern shoreline. In the heat of summer, algae blooms
hamper visibility, making fishing difficult. But in cooler months, the water
is clear enough to spot cruising redfish from a Caribbean-style flats skiff.
The fall and winter also bring the big bull reds (longer than 27 inches)
close to shore. Some of these exceed 50 pounds.

"The bull reds come in near the marshes to spawn in the fall," Arnold said.
"As the weather cools, they stay, as the shallow water is warmer. Warmer
water also attracts forage - baitfish, crabs and shrimp.

"Before I came upon these fish around the Biloxi Marsh in the mid '90s, a
12-pound redfish was considered a good catch on the fly. Now we regularly
find reds over 30 pounds."

A small oil derrick a mile to the south hummed in the background as we
entered a lakelike opening in the marsh. In water less than two feet deep,
reds 20 pounds or more rooted around in the mud, their backs occasionally
breaking the surface.

Surmising that the fish were eating crabs, Arnold tied on a crab pattern
called a Hailey's Comet. He instructed me to focus drop the fly in front of
a specific fish and retrieve it with short, steady strips. Standing on the
mesh-encircled casting platform, I spooked several fish with casts that were
too long, and missed other fish with shots that were too far left or right.
After a few miscues, I hooked and lost one fish, then landed a modest
15-pounder.

We poled around in a circle as fish disappeared and materialized around us.
My casting improved, and several reds near 25 pounds came to the net before
the fish stopped feeding.

We motored for 10 minutes toward one of Arnold's favorite spots, which he
called the Land of Giants. Several International Game Fish Association world
records have come from this stretch, roughly a dozen football fields long
and one football field wide. As we came in sight of the Land of Giants, two
bottlenose dolphins appeared before us. They were soon joined by others, and
the pod circled our skiff.

"The dolphins can really help the fishing," Arnold said. "When they're in
the deeper water off the marsh, the reds sometimes will stay in the
shallows."

Whether it was the presence of the dolphins or the abundance of feed in the
shallows, a remarkable three hours soon unfolded. As Arnold poled the skiff
slowly across the shallows, thousands of bull reds presented themselves in
wave after wave.

There was a flash of two or three white bellies here, stirred-up mud there,
and when the sun was right, a full-on silhouette of three- or four-foot-long
redfish swimming by the boat. Eventually, a larger fish appeared about 90
feet off the bow. The fishing gods smiled, and I dropped a cast a few feet
in front of the fish and stripped. The fish's gills flared - a sign of its
excitement - and it accelerated, mouth open. Line ripped from my reel, the
rod bent wildly, and 15 minutes later, I was posing with a bull red whose
weight Arnold estimated at 38 pounds.

What does this day of angling - one that Arnold declared the best he had
seen in 10 years - say about the aftermath of the spill?

He said: "I think that the reason fishing has been great is related to the
spill. First, many of the species that make up the marine ecosystem here
have had an entire spawning period to reproduce and grow without being
harvested, thanks to commercial fishing moratoriums. That puts more bait in
the water, which supports more and bigger fish.

"I also believe that redfish habitat in other parts of the Gulf of Mexico
has been damaged, and that some of the displaced fish have come here. I have
not personally seen any oil residue around these marshes, but I can't say
it's not there. We just don't know for sure. One thing that's certain; the
long-term effects of the spill have not played out."