The "Peach State" boasts numerous angling opportunities.
Georgia’s 1970 Coastal Marshlands Protection Act has mostly spared this sublime stretch of coast from the habitat butchery that continues in Florida and other states. Make one turn into Georgia’s labyrinth of marsh meadows, oyster reefs and live oak-hammocked keys and you half expect to run into Blackbeard. Odds are, you won’t see anybody, and if you know where and when to start fishing in this immense wilderness, you can target redfish, trout, flounder, tarpon, large jacks, cobia, sheepshead, tripletail and even stripers. Gray trout (weakfish), whiting and pompano also cruise the beachfronts.
Redfish and spotted seatrout are the inshore staples, and understanding the many variable influencing Georgia’s massive tides is imperative to catch fish and preserve gel coat. Extreme high tides can spread the fish out, but sight-fishermen look forward to them, especially May through October, when fiddler crabs are active on flats that only get covered during new- and full-moon floods. Redfish, as well as sheepshead and tripletail, take advantage of these tides and follow the water to all-you-can-eat fiddlers. As they stand on their snouts, blue-tinged tails emerge between blades of marsh grass. The thick grass and the mud churned up by the feeding fish require a pinpoint cast with a weedless fly or jerkbait, without beaning or lining the critter. It’s highly technical sight casting that seems more like shooting darts than fishing.
As the tide falls, redfish move back off the flats via the many marsh drains, often lingering around the mouth of the drain to feed on shrimp and minnows flushed from the marsh by the powerful tides. Flounder and the odd trout are often part of the ambush squad.
Autumn cold fronts get shrimp hatches going, and reds go nuts. They cruise shorelines adjacent to current seams that carry shrimp along the tide. It’s not hard to find the fish, loud pops and cavernous boils give away feeding fish.
As winter rolls in, some fish move back into creeks and old plantation canals. But most Georgia reds gang up in schools that number into the hundreds or even the thousands on the flats. Don’t think for a second the sheer numbers make them easy to catch. On the contrary, all those pairs of eyes keep a sharp lookout for birds and other predators such as anglers. Plus, the cold has killed off the tiny diatoms and other algae that stain marsh and sound waters in the warmer months. Unless roiled by wind, in wintertime Georgia’s redfish flats are almost air clear. If you can see the fish, they can see you. Savvy anglers pick off a specific fish and the edge of the school and dry to drag the fish away from the school so that it won’t spook too far.
Although not renowned for bull red fishing, Georgia offers some of the best bull redfishing in the South. In the fall the big spawners gang up in passes, along the beach and on flats inside the passes, just as they do in the Carolinas, parts of Florida, Louisiana and Texas. These fish are protected, and there’s very little pressure on them. Do your homework, and you may find a school of trophy reds that rarely has encountered anglers previously.
