Like the life cycles of fish I have coveted, my thirty year passion for fly fishing began in small, cold mountain streams.  It is now consumed by the saltwater creeks, rivers and sounds near my home in the low country of Savannah, Georgia. 

I have fished no lovelier places than my home waters in which flourish a variety of fly-worthy fish.  None are more rewarding than redfish, which I pursue by wading and sight casting to tailing fish feasting on fiddler crabs.  The "usual suspect" is 24" to 30" long. 

I hunt them in ankle to knee deep water on a spring tide most often on a sweltering, summer's late afternoon, seemingly light years away from the heat of the city and the worries of my office.  All I need are my two legs, my rod, a couple of flies, and a few cooperative tail-waving redfish in the temporarily flooded marsh. 

My "go to" flies for hunting "fiddlering" reds on these occasions are my variations of Jon Cave's Wobbler and Del Brown's Merkin.  I tie flies for survival, grudgingly tying more for the necessity of the moment rather than for the pleasure of time lost at the vise. 

Scroll down for more information about Gil's home water and how to fish it.

Gil's Home Water

The coasts of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida south to St. Augustine offer a unique opportunity for sight casting to redfish.  Twice a month, around the new moon and full moon, tides spring above normal heights.  Near my home in Savannah, Georgia, spring tides can have a 10 feet range from dead low to high without wind assist.  

These spring tides reach areas of saltwater marsh, Spartina alterniflora, normally unflooded and bring pods of redfish into these fields of grass.  When the fish come up into the grass during the months of summer and fall, they are active feeders in search of targets of opportunity; the most prolific target is the fiddler crab.  If fiddler crabs were as thick in trout streams as they are in the marsh, trout would be more commonly described in pounds rather than in inches.  In the Savannah area, tailing fish can be found on a 7.5 feet tide, provided the wind is not from the tide-killing west.  A northeaster can add a foot or more of water to the projected tide.  During the months of September and October, the projected high tide can range over 9 feet high with lows in the negative one-foot range.

The marsh areas of coastal South Carolina and Georgia are vast.  One-third of the remaining salt marsh on the eastern seaboard of the U.S. lies in these two states.  

Here in my area, my fishing partner Robert Szychowski, and I look for tailing fish in the months of June through November.  The fish are present in the marsh on spring tides during the dead of winter, but are not actively feeding making them difficult to find.

When redfish feed in the flooded marsh fields, its location is betrayed by waking activity, geyser-like eruptions, or by "tailing" as it sticks its snout into the bottom with its tail in the air, rooting for fiddlers and other food. Tails can be seen from hundreds of yards in the right conditions. 

What makes one marsh area more attractive than another for redfish?  I have yet to figure this out.  Not to be flippant, but fish are where you find them.  

I have found fishless areas that appear identical to areas that are loaded with fish. Fortunately, the visual clues of feeding fish enable us to cull areas rather easily from a distance.  However, this is not foolproof as some of our best areas do not always have actively feeding fish.  

The bottom line, if there is such a thing in these matters, is that redfish are creatures of habit.  They usually do not stray very far from low water habitat as discovered by South Carolina fishery experts by the use of electronic tagging devices.  If one can locate redfish on the low water, and there is a suitable marsh flat nearby, the adjacent marsh has potential on a spring tide for tailing fish. 

The typical redfish marsh field is normally threaded, at least on the perimeters, by small creeks.  These creeks appear to be fish entry and exit points during spring tides.  Usually the grass is taller near the creek borders and the footing is soft.  In the areas away from the creeks, the ground is firm and easily waded.  This firmness is caused by the interlocking root structure of the grass.  The grass is also much shorter.  

The first areas to flood appear to be darker than the shallower surrounding areas.  Wading birds, anticipating the flood tide with its moveable feast, often indicate the areas here the fish first appear.  Once the marsh floods, the fish are hunted and spotted in depths from just under kneecap to above ankle.  

If the water becomes too deep, we hunt the edges of the cedar hammocks and islands which offer sloping shorelines where we can find the right depth.  During slack water periods, the fish are usually inactive.  We find them on the incoming and outgoing stages of the tide.  Unlike bonefish, they tend to follow the current, rather than move against the tide. 

A tailing or waking fish must be approached with caution and stealth.  Redfish, from birth, have learned that bad things come from above and beyond.  In shallow water, they are more cautious and skittish than they are in deeper water.  A 10 pound redfish has nothing to fear from an osprey or eagle, but it still will bolt in terror from a passing shadow. 

Sloppy or noisy wading will also alert the fish and they will either scatter like blue-tailed copper streaks, throwing torpedo-like wakes through the grass, or quietly submarine to the bottom and hide in plain sight.  In either instance, it is best to move on to the next fish as one's chances are minimal of fooling a spooked fish.  

An angler who can wade quietly and without pushing a wake can easily set up to within a few rod lengths of a tailing red preoccupied in its search for crabs.  On a dare, I have waded close enough to poke a tailing fish with my rod tip.  

A tailing fish is easier to approach than a waking or cruising fish.  If possible, I like to place myself within 30-35 feet of a fish.  My accuracy improves at this distance and hang-ups are rarer than with longer casts because of the high rod angle which plucks the fly up and out of the grass. 

Assuming we are now in the 30-35 feet range from a tailing fish, what next?  Every effort is made to place the fly as close as possible to the fish's head without spooking it.  The distance varies from day to day and fish to fish.  If the fish is tailing, I try to "bean" it near the head.  This sometimes is in the category "damned if I do, damned if I don't."  If the fish is in thick grass, vision is limited, and the fly must be cast close enough to be seen.  Obviously it will not take the fly if it can't see it or sense it.  On the other hand, the fish will not take the fly if it lands too hard or too close for comfort.  

We generally do not strip the fly in the same manner as we do in deeper unobstructed water.  The reason is two-fold: In the grass the fish has limited vision. Long strips remove the fly from the fish's cone of vision.  Long strips also bump grass and cause more commotion than a live crab, startling the fish.  Sometimes no motion is required; the fish sees the fly and eats it.

If that does not happen, we ever so softly try to twitch the fly, similar to Leonard Wright's "sudden inch" motion imparted to a dry caddis fly.  I do not twitch the fly until the head pops up.  When the head is down, visibility is obscured by the grass and water muddied by his rooting activity.  I do not pick up and recast until the fish has moved far enough away so that it can not sense the pick-up. 

In setting the hook, every effort is made to set it by hand pulling, or stripping the line tight before lifting the rod.  In the excitement of fishing, this is sometimes easier said than done.  However, if the fly has not been taken, the fly has not been removed too far from the vicinity of the fish if a strip-set is used.  Sometimes the fish will take on the trip-set; if it does not, there is usually less commotion caused by the failed strip-set as would be caused by a rod set, and the fish will not spook as readily. 

Occasionally the fish will take without me sensing the take.  On those occasions, a hook-up is signaled by a huge swirl and fleeing fish, often hooked to the crushers.  I try to lead a cruising fish in shallow water by a body length or more.  

Over the shoulder casts are rarely successful.  Incoming fish are easiest.  Put the fly on the line of travel and do not twitch the fly until you are assured the fish can see it.  If it does not take, then the angler is trouble.  

The fish will sometimes keep coming and spook when it sees the angler, usually within a rod length.  It pays to crouch low in those situations.  When a red decides to take, I do not think human reactions are quick enough to prevent the take.  Reds do not usually spit the hook and are often self-hooked to the crushers making hook removal difficult.  I plan to experiment in the summer of 2000 with light wire circle hooks to see if this tendency can be reduced. 

Bite tippets are unnecessary, but it always pays to check the tippet between fish for nicks and frays.  With water temperatures in the summer hovering in the upper 80s, I prefer to get them in and out as fast as possible.  I rarely keep reds for the table; the ones we catch in the grass are usually too big to keep.  There are better local fish for eating. 

Sometimes the Wobbler and Dubloon Crab are just too flashy for tailing reds.  If I have a run of fish which blow out for no apparent reason, I switch to a traditional Merkin, tied in the alternating brown/tan pattern.  The yarn Merkin is deadly on the occasional sheephead which also tails in the flooded marsh.  A large sheephead makes an excellent dinner guest of honor and I have no qualms about bringing one home for supper. 

My fishing partner, Robert, prefers a #4 Merkin in the grass and uses nothing else.  Both of us use small flies for tailing reds as they enable us to make closer casts to the fish's head in the thick grass.  

My favorite hook is a #4 DaiRiki 930ss.  It is needle sharp out of the box, strong, lightweight with well-formed eyes.  It is half the price of the Tiemco 811s and is by no means inferior to the more expensive Tiemco. 

Wading shoes are not necessary for the marsh.  However, snails tend to enter low top shoes and wading shoes or ankle top boots are easier on the feet.  I often wade in shorts, but long pants give more protection from the marsh grass which can scratch and irritate the skin of some wading anglers.  I carry a small fly box, water bottle, camera, sunscreen, extra leaders, fishing pliers and cell phone (for safety) in a fanny pack. I wear polarized glasses for eye protection and a brimmed hat to reduce the glare. 

Tailing redfish in the marsh are a bonus for those saltwater fly rodders fortunate to live and fish in the low country of South Carolina, Georgia and Northeast Florida. In our waters, there are certainly bigger, faster, and more beautiful fish than the redfish, all of which are suitable for the fly rod. However, I can not think of a more rewarding or worthy quarry than a 24" or longer redfish stalked on foot with a home-tied fly as the fish tails and roots in ankle-deep water.