About 90 minutes south of New Orleans the road comes to an end in Venice, Louisiana, a fishy-looking place that leads the way to the southern end of the Chandeleurs, a 40-mile stretch of barrier islands offering nothing more than endless white sand beaches, gin-clear bays and surf. You’ll find solitude that many did not know exists, a bezillion birds and all the trout and reds you could hope for.

For the shallow-water angler the Chandeleur Islands are it, period. These deserted islands belong to the birds, literally. It’s one big federally protected bird sanctuary that just happens to be surrounded by endless flats teaming with gamefish.

Here's a nice day's work for a wader. This stringer of impressive seatrout fell for an array of jigs and plugs, fished with lightweight casting tackle.

Getting to the Chandeleurs can be done by boat or sea plane. Years ago I began making the trip with a few buddies from Houston, Texas. We would trailer boats from Houston, through New Orleans and on down to Venice. From Venice we would travel to the southern end of the Chandeleurs. It was a rough trip. We camped on the islands, cooked fresh fish, lived like natives, wade fished from dawn ‘til dusk, and dreaded the thought of heading back to civilization.

Later on I would fly in to fish with various outfitters, mainly with the late Rudy Grigar, a.k.a. The Plugger, who touted the Chandeleurs as the greatest wade-fishing location on the Gulf coast. “They’re not overrun or overfished, and the water stays clear year-round, regardless of wind direction. The fishing is always good, even when it rains.” That’s the way Grigar would sum up his favorite stretch of water.

I’ll never forget the day I was coming in via float plane to fish with Grigar. We circled low and there he was, white hair glowing in the bright sun. And he was butt-ass naked, hitting golf balls off the top of his crew boat that had been converted for fishing. He loved to play golf, but fishing was his passion. Grigar was crazy about shallow-water angling. He began fishing out of Galveston, then moved south to Port O'Connor, Texas to escape the crowds.

Later on, he packed his gear and headed to the Chandeleurs, once again to escape civilization. That’s where he found big numbers of reds and trout. And that’s where he fished out his life.

Not much has changed on the islands since Grigar’s days there. He started fishing the islands in the 60s and finished up in the late 80s. Sure, there have been hurricanes. And they have reshaped the islands. But they always seem to bounce back. Having fished these islands for the better part of 20 years, I can say from some very salty experience that the fishing is as good as ever.

Via boat, you can reach the southern tip of the islands by heading out of the jetties at the mouth of the Mississippi River. From there it’s about 18 miles to the islands. The southern tip includes the Breton Islands, Grand Gosier Islands and Curlew Island. I’ve fished the entire 40 or so miles of the Chandeleur chain of islands, and the southern end is, without a doubt, the best.

The great thing about a do-it-yourself trip to the Chandeleurs is that you can easily move from one island to the next. If the fish disappear, move on. In years past we communicated via radio. If part of our group finds fish at, say, Curlew, we pack up and head that way. Conversely, hooking up with an outfitter, based out of a 50- to 100-foot boat, gives you protection from the weather, provides meals, showers, a/c, and, well, good old-fashioned down home southern comfort. Plus, guides usually have the inside scoop on the whereabouts of trout and reds.

I’ll never forget one particular morning while at Curlew Island. Six of us had been camping there for about three days. And we had been catching arm-length trout in the surf like there was no tomorrow. One morning we had gotten up well before dawn, and caught a lot of small trout on the bay side of the island. Once the sun began to light up things, we moved to the surf full of 4- to 6-pound trout that hammered our topwaters on every cast. It doesn’t get much better than that. After the bite, we gathered back at the boat for coffee and breakfast. Right about then a big guide boat pulled into the bay. He had seven anglers on board. They enthusiastically hit the water and instantly began catching the small “bay” trout. Not one of them made the 50-yard hike to test the surf. We got a kick out that.

When fishing these islands you have two options--fish the protected bay side or wade-fish the surf. Always check the surf out first. If it’s running clear and green right to the beach, chances are good it’s full of fish, the biggest trout and reds, in fact. If the surf water is silty, stick with the bay side where smaller but numerous fish reside.

Sight casting to trout and reds on the bays is big fun. But it can take some leg work. Hiking is a big part of success along the Chandeleurs. Quite often you can walk and wade a mile or so from the boat, while searching for fish. One morning I was having a tough time finding anything more than “cigar” trout, fish in the 10- to 12-inch class. I was fly fishing my way along the eastern tip of the Breton Islands, eventually coming upon a pool of blue-green water about the size of a backyard swimming pool. Upon further scrutiny, I noticed that there were some big trout feeding on finger mullet moving in and out with the waves. I stood in that one spot and used a No. 1 white deerhair diver to catch seven of the pretties trout you’ll ever see.