Myrtle beach fishing

South Carolina Fly Fishing

is...

Myrtle Beach Fishing....

Extreme South Carolina Fly Fishing

I believe this is the largest flounder caught South Carolina Fly Fishing on a fly rod to date ( 10/03/03). I could find no other mentions. A call to the state noted records are only for all tackle, Fly is not recorded separately such as in FL. Perhaps there is someone out there with a bigger flounder on a fly in SC; this fish weighed in @ 6 lbs 9 oz on a Shimano scale. Caught in Litchfield creek, post high tide bite almost slack, dusk going dark. Rod, and old, slow 8WT, WF 20lb floating line, 20lb backing, 7 FT leader with sink belly section/10lb 12" tippet-5' water, white on white 2/0 Mercuro's Extreme Minnow™ Fly pattern.

Here's the Myrtle Beach Fishing, Tall Tale Story:

Started fishing at 4:30 PM with an orange ball of light falling in my face, mechanically casting over and over till the lessoning rays were a whimpering horizontal bright line etched against the dropping, pitch shadowed sky. I told myself to keep at it till completely dark or the creeping chill overtook me. When almost black, still no action at all, then...suddenly, my monotonous swishing motion and strips were abruptly interrupted. The repetitive casts, and slow interval bottom bounce finally paid off. There was a stupendous tug, the rod curved to the water as if pulled down with an abrupt grasp from Neptune's hand. I didn't wait...not with a fly...immediately setting the hook with a solid sideways sweep of the rod handle waist high and simultaneous sharp strip strike! What a hook set! WOW! The fish was on! I knew at once this was a marsh mauler who was not ringing my door bell to sell girl scout cookies in the shallow cooling evening water. No slack!...Tight Line!...Action Stations! The reel chirped like a Marsh Wren's warning call cranking up my heart with a race car's rev on Nascar oval's first leg. A run away monster letting me know the fight was on from the "Git Go". For many tense and exhilarating minutes the limber 9 ft graphite stick was game, bending like a willow in the wind; a pulsating primal branch , magic in my hands, feeling the line searing in reverse holding a runaway live Tsunami. Each 20-30 yds of lined gained brought a newer, stronger speed burst that kept my heart pounding. Then a tremendous subsurface somersault would follow that roiled the top water, signaling another explosive reel spooling threat. A last frenzied sprint send my fly rod handle buzzing backward, drag chiming in again with it's high speed song...on the spool, again...sing Willie Nelson! Now nervously, I started applying gentle palming pressure and nimbly slowed the reel's rapid revolutions, gently, gently. I feared that instant break off, that mind blowing, "Adios, I'm gone" fish disappearing victory. No way! I didn't wanmt a devastating gut wrenching let down now. But luckily, all held. Soon, my exhilaration rose; his needle was finally heading for empty. After one last 45 degree turn, just as suddenly as the initial unbelievable hook up, as the thump in my chest peaked...the knob started turning forward as the spool picked up line with solid continuous cranks. Playing this dangling dream in, I prayed every moment the brown spotted monster flattie would stay on. Then he was in close. As I was higher than 4 ft from the waters surface, I had to lie down, reaching with a small hand net underneath, attempting to turn the doormat into the webbing. I gave the rod a strong horizontal head pull. Soon an upside down stick was a "U" , as I held high with the right, pushing down under with my left hand in a balancing act of not rolling into the water to capture this bad boy. Teetering on the bank, this side show of fisherman fear went on far too long. Losing this fish was not an option now; it would have been a true nightmare-a fisherman's nervous breakdown to for sure. So after four exasperating passes, not being able to extend enough to lasso him...as he went in and out of the net and I'm thinking it's a miracle he's still on. Beginning to feel panic, knowing a fifth pass spelled failure and I was no fishing cat with nine lives... I yelled for help. A friend came to my rescue with an assist. Shortly this fish was landed. Luck was a fine Mermaid Lady that evening while South Carolina Fly fishing in the magical marsh on that Fading Fall day. It can happen when Myrtle Beach Fishing!

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