Bump in the Night
Cedar Creek hybrids attack like midnight freight trains-

It was almost midnight in Gun Barrell City. While the teenagers were trying to beat Daddy’s curfew, we were loading up with gas and water for an all night fishing trip for hybrids at Cedar Creek Lake. Ben had caught three eight-pound hybrids the night before; so I was ready to hit the water.

Nightfishing is the best way to beat the heat during the summer months in Texas. You have to be more careful and more patient at night, but at Cedar Creek catching the freight train is well worth the wait.

In the darkness, baitfish are drawn to the many boat dock lights. Like moths drawn to a flame you can always see minnows and shad under the lights. The sandbass and hybrid bass in Cedar Creek have also figured this out. Under the lights, the water erupts in a frenzy of feeding.

I had a streamer on the end of my flyrod. A couple of white feathers and some reflective flashabou tied to a hook was all it took to catch a sandbass under the lights. Ben, after many night trips has learned that the small white crankbait works best. He caught I nice sandie at the first light.

Like moths at a flame, when swatted at, the fish tend to scatter. A hit and move tactic proves to be the best way to boat fish. Fish a light till the action stops, then move to the next. Up and down the lake. Different lights hold more fish than others. The omni-directional lights are not as good as lights that point a ray into the water. Depending on the wind, different sides of the lake can be better on different days.

Paul Buechler used a topwater bug and caught a sandie at the next light, while Ben with his rattling crankbait was smacked by a hybrid.

“There he is ... oh yea he’s big.” Ben strained as his rod bent and then bent closer to the water.

Towards open water, then towards the light; the hybrid shook its head trying to loosen the hooks. Ben pulled the fish out of the water with a loud yell.

“Well, there goes the fishing at this light.” I said sarcastically as I reeled in the fly, cut the leader and started digging in my tackle box. I can’t make a rattling noise with the fly rod, but I can imitate the action of the crankbait with a clouser.

The weighted fly drops faster in the water and covers more of the lighted area. When pulled on it jumps up. The up and down action was the trick to getting hybrids instead of sandbass.

Ben pulled up to another light. I bounced my blue and white clouser off a post under the light. This has to get a strike I thought to myself. Pull ... stop ... pull .. stop.

Wham. The line tightened and my rod tip dove into the water.

“Oh no, you caught one on that fly rod.” Ben said reeling in his line fast. “We’re going to need the net for this one.”

The line was tight, the rod was bent and the fish still wanted to go. The power of the hybrid can best be felt as he strips line off your fly rod. There he went. As Ben turned the boat, I was able to stop the fish and keep him from wrapping me around every post on the boat dock.

“Bring him in.” Paul shouted. The fish tried to go under the boat one more time but I turned him and Ben grabbed him with the net- a nice five pound hybrid, a real nice fish on the fly rod.

Paul and I continued to use flies, trying different patterns and getting a fish here and a fish there. Ben, of course, was pulling a hybrid off of almost every dock. After a couple of hours, I put down the fly rod and grabbed my spinning rod. After one cast Paul did the same.

Ben gave an I told you so “uhhuh.”

“My arm is tired and I can”t let you catch all of the big ones.” I replied.

It wasn’t just the casting that makes your arms tire when you fly fish. Catching and boating a fish requires mores effort; especially when the fish have the pull of the hybrid.

Even on the conventional tackle the fish hit with a whallop. If a hybrid hits the bait on top, it will scare you into a hookset. You will here them feeding on top as you sneak up on the lights. And believe me you can tell the difference between a sandbass hitting the top and a hybrid.

On into the wee hours of the morning the fish were hitting the top. And all the way until sunrise we were catching good fish on the white crankbaits.

As the light filled the air, our advantage was lost and we were plain tuckered out too. We pointed the boat toward the dock and saw some boats coming out for the morning fish.

“Y”all have any luck?” the standard question came.

“Yeah, had a fun night.” went back the standard answer. It would take too long to explain about the furious action we experienced under the lights, being pulled around the lake by massive hybrids that laid their own tracks as midnight freight trains. There wasn’t time to tell him about it all in a simple boat passing at the no wake bouy. Besides, I was too darn tired.