While some can say we’re true locals, many more of us have spent summers, holidays, and spring breaks in Port Aransas. We’ve grown up here and this town provides plenty of nostalgia!

Collectively, we fellow Texans probably share a lot of the same experiences. Many fished but some just wanted to spend time at the beach, get sunburned, and get sand everywhere and in everything.

If you’re like me, you like to think, “things were better then or when…” Well, maybe they were. It’s safe to say this place has changed. But passing down Port A’s good stuff, its heart and soul, to the next generation can still bring us joy. In sharing traditions with our kids, new family members, or new friends we can appreciate our nostalgia while creating more memories.

Here are favorite memories of mine you can probably relate to, the Port A fishing trip.

We loaded igloo coolers and the good folding chairs (you know, the ones they don’t make anymore) and made that last stop at Academy Surplus for tackle, a spare rod and reel, or a good knife. Then hit the backway down to Port Aransas. (Just a few years ago, my toddler son made sure we packed a prized possession, his very own Sponge Bob Square Pants fishing rod). We packed our own food in those igloo coolers back in the day because restaurants were few and far between.

In the late 80s I joined the Kidd family and learned how to wade fish in the flats surrounding Port Aransas. These trips qualified me to be a veteran and learn basic boat driving skills. Old school you might say. Woody’s was the place for live bait and we stocked up on shrimp and whatever else we swimming around in the outdoor tanks. The night before the fishing outing required a run into Bilmore’s for a fishing license. We often strolled in last minute, like 10 minutes before closing. This still gave us time to browse and wander around lost for a bit and force the check out lady to ring the bell a few times. Then Desmond Sr., our trip captain, would announce commencement time for morning fishing. It was always really early. “We’re gonna load the boat and push off at 5 am.” That meant we’d also be agreeing to slide out of that boat to wade before sunrise. Apparently, an early start was necessary to sneak up on the keepers. Also necessary was sorting fishing gear for five to six family members before said push off. A set of hook outs, a dip net, a fishing belt with rod and drink holder, a stringer and a bait bucket – not to mention a pair of ill-fitting stingray guards for the lower extremities- were on the official gear list. The boat drivers varied and tolerated various amounts of verbal feedback as they ran the bay boat to East Flats or Shamrock Cove or other secret spots. Anchored, we’d grab a rod, a handful of fresh bait for our bucket, sit on the side of the boat and plunk into waist deep water. Shuffling feet would hopefully scatter the stingrays, which were always more of a concern than sharks. We waded out beyond ear shot of each other to find a hole, the sandy bottom spots where the Redfish huddle up. Moving in deep, salty water shuffling your feet on the soft muddy bottom was slow going took more energy than one might expect. I mentioned that we started this process early, so sometimes casting was done blindly into a dark, monochromatic bay. This wouldn’t last long, the Texas sun isn’t shy, and by 6:30 am there’s light on the water. I did enjoy the solitude of wading by myself, a couple hundred yards from the others. But when someone hollered “gotta keeper!” we moved in closer. Invariably by 9 am fatigue would set in from wading, casting, reeling, endlessly adjusting the gear around my waist, towing the fish stringer, and wrestling with finger mullet. And it was also snack time back at the boat. Hello saltines, mustard sardines, and cold beer!

Watch Below. Then and Now 4 generations of the Kidd family re-living the good stuff, 1963-2021.