Hooked Up: September 2026
Besides the sound of early morning topwater crashes, the next favorite of my five senses used in the outdoors would be that of smell. A whiff of gunpowder smoke as a group of doves swoops into a waterhole for a quick drink, followed by the musty smell of a wet dog delivering a bird to hand after a swimming retrieve would run a close second. In the new normal of our current world of instant gratification, self-indulgence, and everybody staring at a computer in their hand; I am so grateful that I, and most of you reading this, found a deep passion for nature many years ago. Being outdoors and appreciating something AI could never even try to create. “Slow down, son; or you are going to run right past what you are looking for.”
From my late-20s into my early-50s I was blessed to befriend a local legend. Many of you will know of whom I speak but, if not, please look up Capt. Billy Sandifer. He was a character like few others, but you had to be pretty tight with him to see that side (a bit of a double-edged sword if we are being honest). Billy’s legend as a beach fisherman would be something on the scale of John Wayne in western movies. Larger than life abilities, stories for days, brutal criticisms, valued advice, philosophical insights, and intense knowledge of all things Padre Island. Fish, birds, history, shipwrecks, etc.
September and October were always Billy’s busiest months for beach fishing charters. Occasionally a client would cancel, or the weather would be very marginal, something Billy wouldn’t want to put clients through, although the trout fishing might actually still be decent. That’s when I’d get a phone call about 9:00 at night. “The beach is loaded,” he’d say. “But the water is ugly and rough. I considered going by myself, but I’ll probably need someone to take a picture of my world-record trout. Be here at 0600.”
I’m not a flakey man, but when Billy would ring my phone with such coded invitations I would usually drop whatever I had going the next day in the grease. Even if the fish didn’t eat, any day on the beach with Billy was like drinking out of the same water bottle as one of your superheroes. Of course, it was a masterclass in how to read the beach for the most productive of the ever-changing sandbars, blowouts, and pinches; that would hold the best trout. The fish always seemed to take a back seat though as the day played out. Billy’s knowledge and stories were the real prize, while his humor and one-liners had your ribs cracking like you had set the hook 400 times with a long-handled rod.
Although this year is showing abnormal good catches for the heat we are experiencing, this wasn’t the norm in years past. So, when Billy called it was always an easy decision to join him on the beach. Our goal was always surf trout. Even in the heat of late summer, they are big and broad-shouldered, ferocious on topwaters for what seemed all day, and their guts would just be jampacked with every kind of food source you could imagine. We caught lots of them; and the biggest hit for me was all the things I didn’t normally get to see in Baffin.
Tarpon rolling just off the third bar, giant rays, sharks in the first gut, big schools of redfish passing through. Spending a day like that was always exceptional when you had Billy by your side. He was absolutely masterful in explaining what they were gonna do and how they were going to react. September and October can be absolutely magical on the beach. If you’ve never experienced it, I highly recommend it if you want to get away from bay fishing for just one day. I would not be scared to get out there, even on the hottest days.
The best program I can recommend right now for bay fishing in late-summer heat would be the deepest structure you can wade, with hard grass lines and some bait flipping on them. Keeping clients focused has been like herding cats when they’re getting a million small bites. But if you’re patient enough to deal with that, the big ones are right there with them, so don’t get discouraged if you have all the right elements and conditions present, and you’re only catching small fish. Your patience will be rewarded.
Remember the buffalo. -Captain David Rowsey
