16x20
Oil on Canvas
SOLD
This past Summer everyone packed it up and headed to Little River, SC for a few days at my brother - in - law's, Ren Phelps, parent's place. The first day on the water, we boated down to the mouth of Little River that empties into the Atlantic. After a few miles of beautiful live oaks and marsh, we beached the Parker on a sandbar just inside the inlet to let the kids look for sand dollars. Everything from big gambling cruise ships and charter boats to rental jet skis were blasting through the calm channel to the ocean with no problem, so when we got back to the dock later that afternoon, I started snooping around in Ren's father's tackle boxes to see if there was anything to rig up some spanish mackerel lines.
I didn't have to look long for every tackle box was labeled with either "inshore" or "offshore" on the lid. I believe there were even labels inside. This made me a little nervous, because I'm used to rummaging through brown paper bags and five gallon buckets to find tackle. Everything in these boxes was so neatly organized and shiny, I could have taken a picture and sold it to Cabelas for its fishing cover. After carefully removing a few clark spoons and some leader line, I finally got some rods rigged up, and we decided to take my son and Ren's six year old son, Henry, out first thing the next morning.
Around 6 a.m a cool and light northeast wind had settled in with the rising sun, and we all got on the boat and headed out. What a beautiful morning, and after a few minutes of trolling, we started landing some pretty spanish. Within minutes we were surrounded by charter boats, but we had already caught a plenty.
One of the biggest and most colorful was hauled in by Henry, and as it sat on the cooler box the sun was shining just right on it for me to take some good pictures.
