One summer trip stands out.
Had a buddy who was making the transition from construction slab supervisor on contract to salt fishing guide and USCG-licensed Captain.
I was working contract myself then, and when neither of us were working, I'd zip the 140 mi on the back roads, and we'd be on the water.
At breakfast that morning, told Tim I was going to catch a 32" redfish today. Of course that instantly put me in the barrel for this trip, and the ribbing wouldn't end for two days.
We made the run from Goose Is. SP across big Aransas Bay to the San Jose Is. barrier lakes, in particular, Fence Lake. He could run his Majek way to the back (more importantly, could get out). We all took off wading with fly rods.
Caught a few small reds as I was working farther back and looking for the largest feeding slashes across the lake. Got hit by a couple of those fabled TX thunderstorms that barely cover a city block and can drop 2" of rain.
Saw my fish downwind, his wake and back just out of the water. He was coming up too fast, so I held my cast - ankle deep water, and he swam by me leaning on his side to keep his back down - took up grazing again as soon as he passed me.
The thing is, if you keep your cool and your motions stealthy, they see you, but don't know you from a heron in a funny hat.
I made 5 upwind casts, maybe without breathing, definitely skipping heartbeats, and managed not to line him. He took the last one - 32" red.
On the mylar spoon.
Tim laughed at my crab, and next morning at breakfast, told him I'd get a 25" black drum this day on that fly. Same drill to Fence Lake, same ribbing, and we all began wading toward the extreme end. On the way, we got into shoaling reds beating mullet into our feet, and the three of us hooked up a triple. It was the first day to throw this roach pattern, and we named it Fence Lake Roach in honor of the excitement.
My partners began working their way back toward the boat, but I had already seen the largest feeding slash across the lake, and kept going to the far back. Tim was trolling a red size 6 popper on his way, not even trying to fish at the moment, and picked up a slot red.
When I got to the mud stripe along the mangroves at the far back of the lake, my 25" black drum was there, with half his back out of the water. My epoxy crab was perfect for sliding on the mud bottom, the drum would follow it, then turn away - did that for a half-dozen casts.
On the last cast, I thought the drum was gone for sure, but the fish shuddered, spun around, shot back hard and grabbed the crab. Maybe the most fun I've had on a fly rod (including mackerel), the drum wanted deep water. Took everything I had to stop the run, then a series of charges and turns - one of us was going to be unconscious before this was over. Did manage to revive and release all the fish on this post.