The morning is shaping up to be unseasonably perfect -- 7 o'clock, cloudless sky, and no wind in the forecast.

I am standing on a raised platform over the 150-horsepower Mercury outboard as Captain Erik Rue, a 39-year-old Louisiana native, scans the shallows a few feet from the marshy shoreline. The willows and tall Roseau cane that cover the wetlands in front of us offer a patchwork of greens that contrast with the radiant cobalt sky. Rue, a veteran saltwater fishing guide who recently returned from placing in the top 25 at the Oh Boy! Oberto Beef Jerky Redfish Cup stealthily maneuvers his 19-foot boat into a backwater bayou. "There are big reds in here," he says confidently from the center consol.

The early morning air is already warm and smells of marsh grass and brine. My eyes track the graceful flight path of an adult pelican before I'm distracted by large plumes of silt mushrooming up from the bottom -- a sign that the redfish are feeding.

"Over there," whispers Rue, pointing off to the right. Moments later, an enormous school -- 200 reds at least -- move in and are all around us, poking around in the temperate waters, completely oblivious to our presence. The entire surface -- as far as the eye can see -- reflects a reddish hue and I am overwhelmed by the number of fish in our midst. I press the lever of my baitcaster as Rue instructs me to "cast off the stern because the bigger fish have moved behind the boat." I toss my gold-bladed spinner bait from the platform and into the foraging school. I slowly retrieve my lure just beneath the surface. It is an exhilarating sight to watch a 15-pound red swim toward my bait, flashing toward it with tremendous speed and inhaling it in a split second of time. "Fish On!" I holler, burying the barbed hook deep into the fish's upper jaw as my reel is sent into overdrive! I brace myself against the platform and am ready for the fight which I'm about to endure.

Lures such as shallow-running spinner baits or gold-colored spoons are Captain Erik Rue's favorites when fishing reds.

One species in Calcasieu Lake that makes up a significant portion of Louisiana wildlife is the redfish. A member of the drum family, the redfish is becoming a top sport fish in the southern U.S. A cousin of the Atlantic croaker, spotted sea trout and black drum, the redfish, known locally as "reds," evokes images of powerful strikes, forceful runs and exhausting battles. Similar to landing a salmon, striped bass or large bonefish, reds are all muscle and boating four and five continuously will make any angler beg for a breather.

An attractive characteristic of the redfish is its willingness to take most kinds of bait, both natural and artificial. Stalking the shallow grass flats for redfish is the ultimate challenge for wading anglers. From the lake, shallow-water boats seem to be quite popular to get in close. Rue says these boats are designed with one purpose and one only: to take their owners into the skinniest water possible, and enable them to sight-cast to redfish.

Lead-head jigs with an imitation minnow are effective redfish lures when bounced along the bottom.

"The key to landing redfish is putting the bait in front of them," says Rue, who has been fishing for reds on Calcasieu Lake since he was a young boy. "When you can see the fish and see what direction they're facing, you will want to throw your bait so that it swims across the vision of the fish, and not directly toward it. No baitfish would ever swim directly toward the mouth of a predator.

"And when you cast," he adds, "cast far enough in front of the fish so that you don't spook them. Spoons and topwater baits crashing onto the surface right beside the reds can startle and send them fleeing."

Rue advises that if you want to sight-fish for redfish, you'll need three basic ingredients: a boat that can get you into the shallows and backwater bayous where the reds will be feeding in 1 and 2 feet of water; a good pair of polarized sunglasses to spot the fish; and plenty of patience.

During the first day out, my adrenalin was pumping to the degree that I started responding to the sight of redfish attacking my bait, and I would set the hook before they actually took it.

The most distinguishing mark on the redfish is one large black spot on the upper part of the tail base.

Calcasieu Lake, a sprawling crescent-shaped estuary, located just east of the Texas-Louisiana border, consists of approximately 630,000 acres and is considered one of the best redfish fisheries today. With an average depth of just three-feet, the shallow-water lake receives freshwater input from the Calcasieu River and connects to the Gulf of Mexico through Calcasieu Pass at Cameron, Louisiana. The basin is characterized by fertile marshes which may be fresh, intermediate, brackish or saline. The basin supports a variety of marine and wetland habitats but is dominated by marshlands, making the lake an ideal habitat for redfish, which feed on the abundance of shrimp, Gulf menhaden and shad in Calcasieu. 

During the two days we fished, we landed 20 reds in the 9 and 10-pound category with a few tipping the scales at 15 pounds. All the reds we caught that day were released unharmed so they could live to fight another day.

Reds are beautiful fish that will put a smile on any angler's face. The most distinguishing mark on the redfish is one large black spot on the upper part of the tail base. Having multiple spots is not uncommon for this fish but having no spots is extremely rare. The color of redfish ranges from a deep blackish, coppery color to nearly silver. The most common color is reddish-bronze.

For out-of-town anglers wanting to book a trip to Calcasieu Lake, Capt. Rue and his wife, Chef Tina Rue, own and operate Calcasieu Charter Service Lodge. Complete with cable television, full-bar and large dining facility, the cozy lodge, which sleeps 20, is just a short walk from the boat ramp, but far enough from the marina to provide peace and comfort after a long day battling reds on Calcasieu.