A.T.Wood Writes

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“It’s almost a universal desire to pass our love of fishing and the outdoors to our children, but what happens when the realization strikes that we’re likely not leaving them the same natural legacy we inherited? Sitting at a fly tying vise with his young son in his lap, Aaron Wood confronts the question in this poignant essay about fishing and fatherhood.”

Read Here: https://www.aftco.com/blogs/film-series/la-pesca-pura-vida

A 5-Part series looking at the fishermen, farmers, and guides comprising a community ubiquitous with its salty shores.

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“Soon I am on the bow, three whole days of staring forlornly across empty flats, manifesting sea fans into tails. So much effort and time invested in an activity deemed a casual, fun hobby by outsiders. A fair question: Does this obsession provide me with a greater sense of purpose, or is it merely a distraction from a lack of one?”

A father reflecting on the struggle to ensure his son grows up in a world eager to explore, remain curious, and take joy in nature.

A look into the important work going into the restoration of a keystone component of a healthy coastal ecosystem: the oyster.

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Documenting the life of Captain Ryan Griffin, a captain, angler, chef, and craftsman aspiring for perfection in every pursuit.

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Documenting the origins and success of a partnership both on and off the water in the Northwoods region of Wisconsin.

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Built on Passion— Capturing the legacy of one of fishing’s most tenured captains.

“While death by crocodile sounded exhilarating, I conclude my wife would replace me with a man content to sit under a beach cabana by her side, mai tai in hand, instead of one who pursued wild fish in wilder places. As a self-proclaimed man of conviction, I decided then and there I could not, no matter what, die by crocodile.”

The self-deprecating, almost unbelievable story of taking flight in a porta-potty.

Taking comfort in the isolation of the wild beaches and jungle of Quintana Roo.

Deeper Than Water - A father-daughter duo whose bond extends far beyond the work they share.

An angler’s transition from skeptical to full-blown superstitious after multiple encounters with a juvenile raccoon in Mexico.

Recounting the origins of an angling obsession on the beaches of Placencia, Belize.

A cautionary tale in Quintana Roo, Mexico, on the superstitions of anglers.

Diving into south Florida’s clean water issues and the men and women of Captain’s For Clean Water aiming to make it right.

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Features on AFTCO pro Cody Chivas as a saltwater fishing guide in South Florida.

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Telling the story of well-known fishing guide Jay Withers — A humble but veteran fishing guide out of Charlotte Harbor, Florida and host of Guidelines.

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Sharing Secrets

“The first flood tide came in like a parade, and I watched it pass from the sidelines. While others poled around an emerald sea of spartina, I slogged away at my desk. During each morning commute, staring off the road into the wetlands, the sight of a tiling red offered a brief dose of adrenaline, followed by bitter contemplation about the nature of capitalism. When I finally scored a day off, the flood tide was an afterthought, with the moon now more sliver than pie.”

Afraid of Small Spaces

First featured in Fly Fisherman Magazine, Afraid of Small Spaces is featured in the 2021 edition of Destinations, a 120-page travel guide focusing on worldwide fly fishing destinations, lodges, and travel.

Taking a Closer Look

“But what if you were told this habitat was at risk? Despite being widespread, resilient, and seemingly ever-present, cordgrass and the floodplain it occupies are facing a mounting adversary. Rising seas and pollutants are their greatest threat, and according to the Environmental Protection Agency, the effects of climate change and nitrogen runoff (associated with agricultural pesticides) “make it more difficult for cordgrass to flourish,” going on to say that, “Without cordgrass, Atlantic coastal ecosystems would be as vulnerable as a sea turtle without its shell.” The EPA is not alone in its assessment: studies across the board show that marshlands are at threat to rapidly changing conditions, with Audubon noting that the natural process of cordgrass growing, dying back, and trapping nutrient-rich materials “can take thousands of years.” Those dense, matted layers that stabilize the flood plains along our coast are susceptible to rapid change, most notably rising seas and an erratic climate.”

Consider the Pollinator

“A few daffodils are generally the first signs of a Charleston spring, followed by a reliable sequence of blossoms all outdoing their predecessors. Infinite shades of camellia give way to golden jessamine, building toward the crescendo that is azalea season for a short, but majestic couple of weeks. Before long, the jasmine is in bloom, casting its alluring scent. Inevitably, the humidity sets in.”

Afraid of Small Spaces

“In that creek I began to understand the process of things, to first observe the metamorphosis of species from their most basic form into complex beings. Jelly balls of frog caviar buoyed about the bends, copperhead moltings lay dried along the bank. I held squirming tadpoles between two cupped palms, clasped pissing toads between my thumb and forefinger. These were customary traits and activities for children of the wild, when computers were only on the cusp of domination. But those moments, however brief, could define a lifetime not yet lived. The place where the first synapses bonded the passage of water to my better self, where I transitioned from a curious child into a man beholden to the sun, at the mercy of passing water to subsist and prosper. One falls in love with the outdoors before fly fishing comes into the fray, but their juxtaposition forms an entity that cannot be dispatched nor ignored, and at some moments, is downright unfair to the psyche of the angler in question.”

“Over those three days, I came to understand how permit fishing is both a treasure and a curse. I learned that it’s less about the fish than being wholly immersed in the quest of it, surrendering to its indecision, its impropriety, and its incessant, outright refusal of a fake crab. There couldn’t be a more maddening yet perfect prospect—to invest one’s entire experience in a fish with a penchant for rejection is an exercise in patience, tolerance, and masochistic serenity.”

Trash Fisher

“In a time when politics and public opinions have left the entire country polarized, I would like to believe we are united in the desire to keep this city beautiful. “

“The bass worked every inch of the pond, leaping a half-dozen times, each frantic jump a glimpse into normalcy and a momentary reprieve from a chaotic world.”

“…the physical world never misses an opportunity to impart its wisdom on those in need of a reminder. The Lowcountry never intended to harm me, only to give me a nudge and say: Keep your head on your shoulders and an eye on your surroundings, lest you think you’re too smart to be humbled by mud.”

“Sands pushed us along with precision and grace, dipping his pole into a dollop of sand, taking it up again and painting my better memories across the canvas of The Marls.”

A Flood Tide in Three Parts

What Comes Next?

“Calhoun is in fact one of South Carolina's most recognized politicians. Citing Walter Edgar, one of South Carolina's most prominent historians and a man deserving of his own statue, writes that Calhoun actively opposed the industrialization of the South in antebellum times. The slave-based agricultural system in the South was simply far too profitable for those with influence, deterring state governments from modernization. The South, stimulating a global economy on the backs of those stooping down to pick the short-staple cotton could not change its game plan: There was too much wealth at stake. Unfortunately, short-sighted, greedy and inhumane decisions to not diversify the South's economy, educational system and infrastructure are still impacting modern day South Carolina.”

Fighting Fire with Flies

Seance

“She was too young to have ghosts. Just a girl, barely 12. An awkward, gangly thing. Boyish, even. A little gap between her front teeth, freckles dotting her nose. She wore her hair over both shoulders, black as coal. It draped onto the board as she bent over it, brushing the letters. She toyed with the hair at all times of day, couldn’t stop if she tried, twirling it, pulling it taut, giving pause, twirling again, a subtle tick, a unique but unremarkable feature, a parting gift from her mother she could never return.”

Is it already too late for Charleston?

“Don’t get me wrong: This city is special. But with each passing season, its transformation diminishes the allure. For me, every set of downtown scaffolding and bulldozed lot looks like another laceration no politician could ever suture.”

“We performed an unscripted ballet, a sacred dance between angler and fish, with the river stones as our stage and a swath of rhododendrons our audience. I strode left, she careened right; I paused, she peeled off more line. I reeled in my partner, pulling her shoreward and away from safety, holding her in my hands and doing my best to convince her our bond went deeper than hunter and hunted, assailant and victim. While she came unwillingly, I wanted her to know these waters were oxygen for us both.”

Way Up on High

An Eye on the Tide

“Luke Wingo (of The Prince of Tides) understands where I’m coming from. He was a character of sand and salt, of immoveable beliefs, bound by the straightest of moral compasses until the natural world he loved was threatened. Like Conroy, like many Lowcountry residents, Luke understood that depleting our land of its resources meant muddying its virtue: The more you meddle with it, the less it stands to offer. Do the shrimp boats still matter if they can no longer provide a sustainable catch? Are the coastlines still havens for healing if they are overdeveloped? Is Charleston still the “Holy City” when its skyline is consumed by hotels, an inch of St. Michael’s steeple waving its hand from the back of the class?”

Counting Down the Days

“I considered the chess board. “I’ve been thinking on it for a while now, more than half my life, and with only a month to go before the big day, the only thing I can glean from those dead years that were nothing more than a slow burn, the only thing we have in here, you and I, to remind ourselves that everything is going to be okay, is that every person on earth is gonna die, some of us just happen to be counting down the days.””

The Death of Southern Charm

“Events like this are not exclusive to the South. Protests across the United States have been a historical hallmark of our passage. They are useful in that they allow for the emotions to bubble and spew, to provide a catharsis but not a remedy. These events are like picking at the scab, until it’s peeled back and we can take a look at what’s rotten underneath. It pains me to say, but we’ve been picking at the same scab for a while now.”

Gone From There

“I almost wish Pa had taken to the bottle, at least I’d have known there was something in him still livin’. Something down in there he was tryin’ to kill. He might as well’ve been stuffed with cotton and sewed together, like Raggedy Ann, ‘cept Pa didn’t smile much ever again, and some days he didn’t speak a word till supper. It stayed that way, until ‘Pass the biscuits’ started to feel like a hug … There must be something lonesome in this blood of ours.”