Justification and Explanation
The only justification I have for the following is that after it all came about, I felt it would make a fairly good tale. Back when I wrote it, the paths through Louisiana’s offshore fly fishing wilderness were still fairly dim, so you just might enjoy learning how it all evolved.
The explanation is that I intend to make it into a serial of sorts, with a new episode every two weeks or so and breaking at an opportune time – keep your interest up that way. I have almost as much experience in creating serials as I do symphonies, so if things get a little rough from time to time, bear with me. Also, while I will attempt to maintain this page at the beginning for clarification, the remainder will be added from the bottom to the top.
Finally, some of the material herein has been published in other parts of this site as individual topics. Here, they are all necessary to create the tale.
Prologue and Acknowledgement
Edwin A. Vice – once a friend, a writer, and one who really cared about friendship and the outdoor activities about which he wrote – gallantly fought a long fight against a particularly nasty form of cancer before it finally got him. He even went fishing offshore a time or two in the severely weakened state brought about by the chemo-therapy treatments – caught a few, too. He was a tough man, both in body and mind, but his fight, sadly, was for a lost cause.
He was one who would do his thing – or state his opinion – and never look back. I have no doubt that those many years ago no one else here in Louisiana would have recognized the sport of fly fishing for what it was and been able to establish an all-encompassing fly-fishing division within our state’s fishing records. We owe him a lot for that, especially me.
At the time there were only two categories for fly fishing in our record-book, “Bass on a Fly Rod” (Which did not actually require “fly fishing” but could employ the use of minnows, jigs, and private waters), and “Redfish”. Ed wanted to include every species recognized in the general records, and because of my fly-fishing history, he asked me to help him with that, along with establishing the rules and regulations for the new division. And early on I helped to fill it, not so much for the recognition – though I will admit that was indeed an ego-trip, but to show others what could be caught on fly in Louisiana waters – saltwaters, especially.
Living in Buras in the Mississippi River Delta, I had that particular world literally at my feet, but at the time it was a very poorly charted world – a wilderness, if I may – much of it totally unexplored by fly fishermen. I cut some trails through that wilderness. A few of those became large and have since been well-trodden by others of my type, some are still faint paths that seldom feel a footstep. Some were discovered alone, others with very close friends. This is how it happened, and it is dedicated to those who helped – and to Ed Vice, lest we forget his part in showing fly fishermen everywhere the grand opportunities that await them along the Louisiana coast.