This is my spot behind Sullivan's Island. I can wade into the marsh in and in two minutes be casting towards tailing redfish. The only problem. I don't know what the heck I'm doing.
I did learn over the course of a week and 5 times on the water (about 10 hours total) that the high tide needs to be atleast 1.6 meters to be good here. Fortunately, the tide was right for me 4 times out of five. I would watch the tide come into the marsh grass, the fiddler crabs scurry to their holes, and then the mullet and redfish wakes would follow. My first two times out, I drove myself mad wondering if the wakes I was seeing in the 10 inch deep water were caused by redfish or mullet. The thrid day, I saw a wake so big there was no denying it was the wake of a redfish. And fourth and fith day, I was taunted by tailing redfish, less than 10 feet away at times. I freaked out seeing redfish tailing so close, and fumbled to get a cast off. My flies landed in the "zone" but I don't know if they ever caught the attention of the foraging redfish.
I just wanted one. One redfish, on the flats, on the fly. Even a small one. I got to cast to some big ones, and no, not even a bite. They didn't eat my mud minnow fly, my crab fly, my gurgerler, or even my spoon fly presentations. I mean, I thought redfish couldn't pass up a spoon fly?! I am basically spin fishing at that point for crying out loud! I need a teacher. A yoda of fly fishing for red's to teach me to use the force.
It was beautiful in the marsh though. I never knew you could find sober wilderness so close to the materialism of the beach. Abundant wild life, nature in motion, and tailing red fish who's tails may have well be their middle finger directed toward me. To the redfish in my spot, you are all safe in my presence, but back up is on the way, so get nervous. After seeing those tails waving slowly, glowing orange in the falling sun, I'm hooked like Barry Bonds to Balco "vitamins," and there seems to be no turning back.