| 27 January 2011
(Click Image To Enlarge) Combine low tide and dawn with a subtle approach for redfish success.
Low Down on Low Tide Redfish
"I could fish these creeks every day for the rest of my life and never cast at the same redfish twice," Capt. Rick Ryals told me as the rising sun lit the expanse of grass along Jacksonville’s Heckscher Drive.
“Besides Sister’s, there’s Dunn’s Creek, Brown’s Creek, Simpson, Nassau Sound, Mill Cove--mile after mile of grass laced with tidal creeks. I’ve fished here most of my life, and I still get lost from time to time.”
(Click Image To Enlarge) Sunrise on serene Sister's Creek
Ryals and I launched at Sister’s Creek Boat Ramp, literally a minute from his house. A quarter-mile paddle across the Intracoastal Waterway put us in the mouth of Sister’s Creek.
Meandering arms branch into smallercreeks, and narrow fingers snake away into a labyrinth of spartina grass
and oyster mounds; even my lightly loaded kayak scraped oysters as we
worked our way uptide. 
Put it in front of them and these fish eat!
“You know what we won’t find in here?” Rick deadpanned as we ventured across shallows. “Boats.”
It didn’t take long to spot what we came for. A pair of fish splashed next to an exposed oyster mound along the right shoreline. Small minnows took to the sky to avoid the rush.
“Put your lure 18 inches in front of them,” Ryals instructed as he assembled his fly rod, shook out some line and slipped off toward more fish terrorizing minnows 40 yards ahead.
These reds apparently accommodate a slight margin of error. My weedless soft-plastic landed three feet ahead of an exposed bronze back, which surged ahead on an interception course with the slow-swimming DOA rootbeer shadtail.
Miles of spartina creeks offer endless fishing opportunities
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I turned to inform Rick that I was hooked up. His fly rod was also bent, his black Clouser firmly embedded in an oyster that beat his intended target to the fly. My redfish put up a more inspired fight than his bivalve, somehow squeezing beneath my kayak twice despite being in four inches of water. Fortunately, the 15-pound leader avoided scattered clumps of sharp-edged oysters, and the fish finally eased alongside the kayak.
Ryals snapped a few pictures before feeding fish a hundred yardsahead diverted our attention. I released the red, stashed my rod and fell in behind Ryals.
“I
find most redfish in two places, either at the mouth of the creek or
against the back of the creek,” Rick explained, as we sat motionless,
scanning the exposed mud banks for splashing fish or exposed backs. “If
the tide is too low, they stage just outside, waiting for the ice cream
shop to open. My favorite fish are in the back of a creek. They’ll turn
it to mud chasing bait, happy and totally oblivious to my presence.”
Sighting feeding fish is easy in these shallow still waters
We were taking advantage of a scenario that occurs on a daily basis throughout Florida. As tidal water rushes in, redfish flood in with it to access recently exposed shorelines.
Same scenario, perhaps. But this is definitely a different fishery than tidal waters in the Gulf of Mexico or Indian River Lagoon.
Spotting these fish is easier, for one thing.
In much of Florida, hunting for feeding redfish means searching vast grassflats for subtle movements or a waving tail. Thick seagrass or overhanging mangroves can complicate presentations.
None of that nonsense here.
Off-the-bank shots don't disturb these reds At
low tide, the search area consists of bare shoreline against a steep
mud bank topped with thick spartina grass, or the back of a shallow
creek or tiny cove perhaps a dozen feet wide. The reds aren’t hard to
spot; they often wallow about in several inches of water with their
backs exposed, or assemble in conspicuous gangs crashing baits, acting
like a school of childish jack crevalle.
The lack of thick seagrass or shoreline cover is more forgiving in terms
of presentations, as well. Should an inaccurate cast land on the mud
bank, simply pull it into the water in front of the fish. These fish
also strike me as less nervous and easier to approach than most redfish;
Ryals says that is a seasonal attribute. 
“They can be real hard to feed in the summer, but after about October 1, the only thing they seem to worry about is feeding.”
Indeed, I watched Ryals flog a school of feeding reds with his fly from amazingly short range, hooking and losing two before getting a third to the kayak.
Would-be redfish stalkers would do well to trail Capt. Ryals for a morning. With
a limited window of low-tide opportunity, he set a blistering pace when
we left the ramp and anytime we moved between creeks. But approaching
potential fishing areas, Ryals went into hunt mode, easing along with
silent paddle strokes, no wake or pressure wave coming off his kayak. He
spent more time looking than he did paddling.
Barely deep enough for the redfish, kayaks provide easiest access to low-tide creeks.
Timing the low tide with dawn’s early light is the key to sight-fishing North Florida’s creek redfish.
“What you want is a low tide just starting to come in at first light,” Ryals said. “The bite will be over by 9, so it doesn’t give us a lot of time. A late-afternoon low tide can be just as good, but the wind often kicks up by then, so the fish are hard to see.”
So where do the fish go?
“I don’t think they go anywhere,” Ryals said. “They’re still there, but after the tide comes in, you can’t see them, unless you’re on a poling platform. And to me, fly fishing is all about seeing the fish.”
This sight-fishing opportunity lasts all winter, but the fish move into the main channel of the Intracoastal Waterway during the dead of winter. Fishermen need to hit the water early, before boat traffic pushes fish off shoreline edges into deeper water. For that reason, weekday fishing is preferable.
Black Clouser, DOA CAL shadtail with clear Hothead rigged weedless Ryals
relies on a 9-weight fly rod, floating line and eight feet of leader
terminating in a 12-pound tippet. “I’d use an 8-weight, but I don’t have
an 8-weight.” A black Clouser Minnow was the only fly he tossed all
morning. He recommended that I scale down from a 20-pound fluorocarbon
leader to 12 or 15 on my spinning rod. “The oyster bars should be above
the waterline at low tide, so you don’t generally have to worry about
getting cut off.” 
Ryals recommends small earth-tone lures. These DOA Shad and Shrimp are perfect for this shallow work.
As to spinning lure selection, Ryals told me to keep it small and simple; DOA CAL 3-inch shadtails impaled on a 1/16th-ounce jighead, or rigged weedless on a 3.5 DOA Longneck worm hook. I went the weedless route, adding a DOA clear Hothead--I think eyes add appeal to any lure. DOA 3-inch shrimp should be excellent as well; they land lightly and ride hook up, perfect for slow presentations in the shallow strike zone.
Ryals recommends darker earth tone colors; 304 Rootbeer, 406 Arkansas Glow, 416 Golden Bream, 356 Pumpkinseed, 371 Avocado Red Glitter, 415 Gold Rush, 441 Fiji Chicken (also a very effective trout color). Hopped slowly in front of feeding redfish, they emulate small baitfish as well as crabs and other crustaceans.
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