John was fishing with a rope this morning. At the end of the rope was an eight pound magnet that I had loaned him. He was moving the cleats back on the finger pier when he dropped his pry bar. The big magnet had no problem finding the bar and work resumed.
Yesterday one of our owners contacted the realtor who is selling the property around our place for Richy. The realtor told him that since the new pier was attached to the parcel of land next to the 100 building, the new owner would have access to the pier. Not only that, but the new owner would also own the boat ramp and the land across the street and have access to the marina. The realtor did say there was an easement that will allow us to use the road, boat ramp, and to access the pier. The exact boundaries of Phase I property are not easily found and I don't know of anyone who knows where they are.
Last evening I had the whole pier to myself, but the fish would not cooperate. The evening before Keith(113 Phase II) and I shared the pier. We realized after we talked that Keith was a student in my high school Physics class 35 years ago. We did more talking than fishing. Finally, just after 1:00am, I saw a trout attacking a perch just outside the lights and realized that perch was on the end of my line. I brought it in for the first keeper in over a month for me. It was just under 16 inches. Sure was good to have fresh fish for lunch.

This article appeared recently in the San Antonio Express-News. The guide for the story was the same one that guided Jim Vater(401) and his boys during their July trip.

By Will Leschper
Special to the Express-News

ROCKPORT -- Veteran fishing guide Ron Coulston reared back and set the hook on a quality fish, exclaiming that fact aloud as the braid on his baitcaster shot out in strident spurts.

Ling are a rare catch in bay systems and TP&W has caught only two in Aransas Bay in the past three decades of gill-net surveys.

As is the case when a crafty angler knows instantly that they've barbed a specimen sporting shoulders, the others wading nearby guardedly shimmied the stingray shuffle toward the splashing to get a more thorough inspection.

Coulston did his best to work the quarry in for closer examination in the waist-deep water, but the critter was more than a little shy, opting to remain at a distance while mocking the drag. A couple of more minutes passed that included witty banter about sharks and porpoises, and as the fish finally rose about 50 yards out, a curved brown fin crept into the sun before gliding back down in the Traylor Island shallows.

Speculation at this point ran rampant, but anything with serious teeth would have shredded the line amid the pulsing runs, it was established, and Coulston kept working his magic. Eventually the fish rolled up on its side and actually woke up -- applying a generous splash to the surroundings and a clue to its true identity.

"Cobia!" was the common call as the ling continued to thrash about near the surface, and the excitement only grew as the most atypical of fish in this locale kept perpetual pressure on the drag. Another couple of minutes passed before the bruiser got close enough for a BogaGrip bite, allowing Coulston to finally get a handle on the stout fish.

If you've ever headed into the big blue horizon or earned your stripes at the jetties, you've more than likely either caught ling or been in the midst of the curious fish. Lemon fish, as they also are called, are known to frequent oilrigs and lurk under other surface objects in open water.

However, hooking -- much less finding -- one of these impressive critters in a bay system while wading in waist-deep water is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Karen Meador, Texas Parks & Wildlife Department Aransas Bay ecosystem leader, and Kyle Spiller, TPWD Upper Laguna Madre ecosystem leader -- who have more than six decades of saltwater fisheries experience -- said that discovering a nice ling inshore remains a curious incident to say the least.

"I think I can count on one hand the number of ling I've come in contact with outside of the gulf, and those were juveniles," Spiller said. "We've occasionally caught them in gill nets during surveys over the years, but those fish all were a foot or less."

Meador pointed to interesting figures gleaned from a database containing more than 30 years of TPWD gill-net survey data. She said that in that time frame, only 20 ling were caught coastwise from Port Arthur to Port Isabel in gill-net surveys, including only two in the Aransas Bay ecosystem. One was caught in 1984 behind Mud Island and the other was caught in 1996 near Long Reef.

"The largest ling caught in gill-net surveys came from the Lower Laguna Madre in 1979, and that fish was 27 1/2 inches long," Meador said.

Meador noted that offshore fish sometimes creep into bay systems when tides are high as they have been recently and in other years. However, with salinities being fairly low in Redfish Bay compared with figures in the gulf, it makes the catch of a hefty cobia -- measuring 42 inches -- by a wading angler that much more baffling.

It's yet another prime example that just below the shimmering surface rests the great unknown.

Will Leschper is a freelance outdoors writer and photographer. E-mail leschperw@yahoo.com.

DID YOU KNOW?
- Ling, also known as cobia, are usually found offshore around oil rig platforms or other structures, and also near jetty locations.

- Anglers may keep two fish daily measuring at least 37 inches, and there is no maximum length limit.

- The state-record cobia, which measured 71 inches, was caught in 1998 in the Gulf of Mexico and weighed just more than 108 pounds.

- Ling often will lurk near shrimp boats and eat the bycatch from the trawl haul that is dumped back overboard.

- The fish generally are line shy, but will take a variety of live or cut baits.

- Rockport fishing guide Ron Coulston caught the 42-inch ling recently on a Cajun croaker Bass Assassin.