There comes a morning every year around Port Aransas when you step outside before daylight and realize summer has finally blinked. The air feels a little lighter, the breeze has lost some of that August hair-dryer quality, and for the first time in months you can drink a cup of coffee outside without immediately sweating through your shirt. You stand there with the boat keys in one hand and think, “Well, here we go.” Fall has arrived.
Not the calendar version of fall, where somebody starts selling pumpkin-flavored coffee while it is still 93 degrees outside. I mean the real Coastal Bend version, when the bays begin changing, the bait starts moving, and the fish start rearranging themselves like they know something is coming. September still looks a lot like summer. The water is warm, the sun is plenty rude by midmorning, and the best fishing often comes early. Before sunrise, the flats can be alive with mullet, shrimp, redfish wakes and trout working grass lines or reefs. Then the sun gets higher, the bait spreads out, the fish slide deeper, and you start wondering whether the fish quit biting or simply got smarter than you. Usually, it is the second one.
As the month wears on, the nights get a little longer and the water slowly starts losing some of the heat it carried all summer. Then the first real norther shows up. The wind swings north, the air dries out, and shallow flats begin draining. Bait that had been spread across miles of water starts funneling toward drains, guts and deeper channels. That is when fall fishing really starts to get interesting.
Shrimp are a big part of that change. As the water cools, more of them begin moving toward deeper water, passes and eventually the Gulf. Trout, redfish and everything else with an appetite know exactly what that means. Drains, cuts, channel edges and other natural funnels can suddenly turn into feeding stations. This is also when working birds can become one of the best fish finders on the bay. You might be running across open water and see a handful of gulls start dipping, and every fisherman within sight instantly becomes an air-traffic controller. “Birds at eleven o’clock.” Sometimes there are trout underneath, sometimes reds, sometimes ladyfish, and sometimes every hardhead in Nueces County has apparently scheduled a reunion. That is fishing.
Mullet are another major part of the fall story. During summer, they are everywhere and we barely notice them. They jump, splash, and scare you half to death beside the boat for no apparent reason. But as cooler weather settles in, mature mullet begin gathering into bigger schools and moving toward the passes and offshore waters for spawning. Around Port Aransas, that can mean major bait concentrations around the ship channel, jetties, Lydia Ann Channel, Aransas Pass and nearby beaches. Where the mullet go, the predators are rarely far behind.
Redfish especially seem to understand the schedule. Slot reds remain throughout the bays, working grass, shell, shorelines and drains, while larger bull reds become more active around passes, jetties and Gulf beaches. A chunk of fresh mullet sitting on the bottom during the fall run can turn a peaceful morning into complete chaos. The rod bends, the drag screams, somebody jumps out of a chair, and suddenly everybody is yelling. “Grab the net! Move the cooler! Watch the anchor rope!” Fishing is one of the few activities where catching exactly what you hoped to catch can immediately create an emergency.
Speckled trout do not leave the Coastal Bend when the weather cools; they simply change neighborhoods. During stable fall weather, they may still feed across shallow grass, shell and shoreline structure, but after a hard front they often move toward deeper guts, channels and other areas where water temperatures remain more stable. A productive flat can look completely dead after a norther, but the fish probably did not disappear. More often, they moved into the nearest deeper water along with the bait.
Winter also changes the best time of day. In summer, fishermen are conditioned to believe earlier is always better. In cold weather, that can flip. A shallow flat may be too cold at daylight, but after several hours of sunshine it can warm just enough to pull baitfish and redfish back in. The difference may only be a couple of degrees, but apparently that is enough to make a redfish decide it is time to go to the buffet.
Black drum become more important as the weather cools, too. They are not the glamorous member of the inshore fishing family, but they pull hard, taste good in the right size range, and can save a slow day. Live shrimp around channels, bridges, shell and deeper structure is hard to beat. Fresh dead shrimp works too. Black drum are not exactly known for turning their noses up at groceries.
Then there are flounder. As fall progresses, southern flounder begin migrating toward the Gulf to spawn, and that movement can concentrate them around drains, channels, passes and sandy edges. Finger mullet and live shrimp are both excellent choices, and any place where shallow water empties into deeper water deserves attention.
That brings up the question every fall fisherman eventually asks: should you buy bait or catch your own? Live shrimp remains one of the best all-around baits on the Texas coast. Trout eat it, redfish eat it, drum eat it, flounder eat it, sheepshead eat it and mangrove snapper eat it. After a while, you start wondering whether the entire Gulf of Mexico is powered by shrimp. Most bait stands continue carrying live shrimp well into cooler weather, but availability can change after strong fronts or rough conditions, so calling ahead is a good idea. There is nothing quite like getting up at 4:30 in the morning, loading the boat, driving to the bait stand and seeing a handwritten sign that says NO SHRIMP. At that point, even the breakfast taco feels judgmental.
Croaker becomes less dependable as summer fades, but finger mullet can be excellent in the fall, and that is where a cast net earns its place in the boat. If you see mullet working a shoreline, marina or bulkhead, a few good throws may give you all the bait you need. There is something deeply satisfying about throwing a cast net perfectly, watching it open into a clean circle and pulling it back full of bait. For about thirty seconds you feel like you could live off the land. Then the next throw hits the side of the boat, collapses into a wad and catches one dead leaf. That restores the natural order of things.
The trick is not to spend half the morning trying to catch bait. If the mullet are there, throw the net. If they are not, buy bait and go fishing. Shrimp can also be caught with a cast net under Texas regulations, but they are usually less predictable than mullet, so for most anglers the bait stand is still the easier option.
By December and January, the Coastal Bend settles into a true winter pattern. Fishing does not stop, but it becomes more deliberate. Cold water makes fish less willing to chase, artificial lures often need to be worked slower, and you may need to stay on a productive stretch longer instead of constantly running around the bay. Winter can also produce some excellent speckled trout, especially larger fish feeding on mullet and other baitfish. Sometimes you make twenty casts without a bite, then your lure stops. At first you think you hooked grass. Then the grass shakes its head. That is one of the better feelings in fishing.
By late February and March, little signs of spring begin showing up. Warm afternoons bring bait back to shorelines, mullet get more active, and redfish start showing themselves in shallower water. Spring never arrives all at once in South Texas. You get a few warm days, decide winter is over, and then another front reminds you not to get cocky. Still, by March the trend is clear. Water temperatures are climbing, trout start moving out of deeper winter areas, redfish spread across flats, and sheepshead become especially important around jetties, bridges and structure.
Then April arrives, and that is when the bays really begin waking up. Shrimp become more common in shallow water, mullet scatter across the flats, small baitfish become abundant, trout feed more consistently and redfish cruise the grass. Popping corks start sounding like dinner bells again, topwaters become more dependable, and by late April and May the fishing around Port Aransas is getting hot again in every sense of the word. Live shrimp is productive, croaker becomes more available, soft plastics work over grass and shell, and the boat ramps get busier.
Before long, fishermen start complaining about the heat again, which is funny because only a few months earlier those same fishermen were standing in a cold north wind saying they could not wait for summer.
That is the fishing year around Port Aransas. September begins the change. October and November bring bait migrations, redfish, flounder and some of the most exciting fishing of the year. Winter slows everything down but can still produce outstanding fish. March begins the awakening. April gets good. May gets better.
Then, before long, you are right back where you started, watching the sunrise over warm water, sweating before breakfast and telling yourself that this is finally the year you have the fish figured out.
The fish, of course, have heard that one before.
