mmontelongo
New member
Port Lavaca Pier Fishing Report – April 11–12, 2025 (11:30 PM – 2:30 AM Each Night)
Conditions & Expectations:
Heading into the weekend, the solunar activity forecast looked prime—April 11th showed an 85% bite rating, and April 12th ramped that up to a full 100%. With clear skies, warming weather, and perfect night fishing vibes, the pier was buzzing with anticipation both nights.
April 11th – Fire Bite Friday:
Conditions were perfect—barely any wind, calm water, and the pier lit up like a runway. Fish were everywhere. Anglers along the pier were landing gar, redfish, speckled trout, and the usual crew of gaftop. Around the lights, specks were feeding aggressively, flashing at the surface and smacking anything thrown their way.
I made the rookie mistake of only bringing my 12ft Shimano Speedmaster with the Abu Garcia 6500, which was great for launching bait into the deep—but totally the wrong setup for light tackle trout. We still pulled in multiple gaftop outside the lights, but the trout bite was going off right in front of us. Our neighbor tossing a Down South Lure in root beer landed three slot specks back-to-back. It was a clinic—and a hard lesson in gear choices.
April 12th – The Letdown:
Armed with the Waterloo Tide Series rod, Shimano Vanford 3000, and Down South Lures, I was ready for redemption. But right out of the gate, we realized the fish weren’t playing ball. Despite the 100% solunar rating, we hit a slack tide, with an 8-knot breeze and a big bright full moon lighting up the water like daytime.
The pier was packed early with familiar faces from the night before, all expecting the same magic. But it was radio silence. Not even the gaftop were biting. We watched group after group leave empty-handed. We stuck it out until 2:30 AM and ended up closing the pier, still skunked.
Final Thoughts:
April 11th was a reminder of what makes night fishing electric—fast bites, surface-feeding trout, and watching the pier light up with hookups. April 12th was the exact opposite—a humbling lesson that solunar tables aren’t everything. Full moons and slack tides can throw the whole bite off, no matter what the charts say.
But honestly, I enjoy these tough lessons—because they’re the ones that stick the most. Every skunk, every wrong rod, every blown tide window adds to the knowledge bank. It’s how we get better. And that’s what keeps me coming back.
Conditions & Expectations:
Heading into the weekend, the solunar activity forecast looked prime—April 11th showed an 85% bite rating, and April 12th ramped that up to a full 100%. With clear skies, warming weather, and perfect night fishing vibes, the pier was buzzing with anticipation both nights.
April 11th – Fire Bite Friday:
Conditions were perfect—barely any wind, calm water, and the pier lit up like a runway. Fish were everywhere. Anglers along the pier were landing gar, redfish, speckled trout, and the usual crew of gaftop. Around the lights, specks were feeding aggressively, flashing at the surface and smacking anything thrown their way.
I made the rookie mistake of only bringing my 12ft Shimano Speedmaster with the Abu Garcia 6500, which was great for launching bait into the deep—but totally the wrong setup for light tackle trout. We still pulled in multiple gaftop outside the lights, but the trout bite was going off right in front of us. Our neighbor tossing a Down South Lure in root beer landed three slot specks back-to-back. It was a clinic—and a hard lesson in gear choices.
April 12th – The Letdown:
Armed with the Waterloo Tide Series rod, Shimano Vanford 3000, and Down South Lures, I was ready for redemption. But right out of the gate, we realized the fish weren’t playing ball. Despite the 100% solunar rating, we hit a slack tide, with an 8-knot breeze and a big bright full moon lighting up the water like daytime.
The pier was packed early with familiar faces from the night before, all expecting the same magic. But it was radio silence. Not even the gaftop were biting. We watched group after group leave empty-handed. We stuck it out until 2:30 AM and ended up closing the pier, still skunked.
Final Thoughts:
April 11th was a reminder of what makes night fishing electric—fast bites, surface-feeding trout, and watching the pier light up with hookups. April 12th was the exact opposite—a humbling lesson that solunar tables aren’t everything. Full moons and slack tides can throw the whole bite off, no matter what the charts say.
But honestly, I enjoy these tough lessons—because they’re the ones that stick the most. Every skunk, every wrong rod, every blown tide window adds to the knowledge bank. It’s how we get better. And that’s what keeps me coming back.
