Spinnerbaits give off flash and vibration, making them ideal for muddy creeks.
Salt creek fishing for red drum is productive year-round throughout Northeast Florida, Georgia and South Carolina. Take a look at any decent fishing chart and you’ll notice hundreds of small tidal creeks and run-outs border the Intracoastal Waterway like veins on a leaf. Some are treacherously shallow, but most can be navigated by small boat. While not every good creek is well charted, I enjoy the exploration part of creek prospecting as much as fishing those that are a sure thing.
In my experience, the best creeks have some deepwater holes where fish can find sanctuary even at low tide, an abundance of oyster shells, other hard bottom, and baitfish to attract predator fish in quantity. While almost any creek can attract bait and reds, I like narrow, deep creeks best because they are easier to cover while casting. In a wide creek, redfish can be scattered, even when the water is only a foot or so deep. Plus, if you aren’t really stealthy, shallow creek reds can be alerted much more readily than those in a deep hole. Of course, maybe that presents a challenge that’s more appealing to you.
Sometimes deep creeks lead to open bays, which can certainly be worth fishing. However, a “pinched” stretch of a creek that drains an open bay often holds reds during a falling tide.
Generally, shallow-draft boats are a must for coastal creek fishing. For years I used a 15-foot johnboat and 25-horse kicker. But aluminum is noisy, and range and comfort of that boat is limited, especially in windy weather or during a busy boat weekend when pleasure cruisers plowing down the ICW are throwing wakes almost as high as my johnboat was long. Flats skiffs are great in creeks, and some anglers do well working out of canoes and kayaks. My bay boat is a good compromise, because some prime creeks along the Florida, Georgia and South Carolina ICW require long runs from rural boat ramps, and should you have to cross larger bays and sounds a bay boat can handle a substantial chop. Last spring, we really pushed the envelope while fishing with captain Mark Noble out of Georgia’s Golden Isles Marina. We fished from his deep-V, 25-foot center console boat in creeks not much wider than his 8-foot beam. The wind was up, and we had to make a long run to Cumberland Island, where deep, redfish-filled creeks abound. Mark’s big boat made the run to Cumberland comfortably, but when we entered a narrow, deep creek I wondered how he’d handle it in the shallows. As it turned out, he maneuvered the boat expertly up the tight creek until we reached a small, deep hole, where an oyster shell bar blocked our progress. As we grabbed rods and reels, an 8-foot alligator slipped off the spartina grass bank and wiggled up against the far bank of the deep hole.
A "pinched" stretch of a creek that drains an open bay often holds reds on falling tides.
“That gator sometimes takes our redfish, but he’s a resident, we’re just visitors,” Mark said lightheartedly as we cast live shrimp rigged beneath a weighted float. “Be careful not to make any boat noise, reds are spooky in creeks, even in this hole. Make a long cast upcurrent in the hole, and let the float drift back with the tide while you snap your rod and make the float chug,” he suggested. “Fish should be moving down the creek with bait and the tide, and they’ll jam up in this hole.”
This red was feeding and pushing a wake along an exposed mud bank.
We fished for a few minutes without success. Then my son Matt tossed his Thunder Chicken, a float that Mark designed, way upcurrent, popped it a time or two, and the float went under with authority. It was a good redfish, and Matt had his hands full with 8-pound spinning gear in the tight confines of the creek. An oyster shell spelled impending doom, and it was even money whether Matt or the redfish would win. But Matt prevailed and Mark soon netted the 9-pounder. To show it wasn’t a fluke, Matt hooked another fish a few minutes later, this time a 12-pound redfish.
