I know the odds of the same group of redfish being in the same spot two days in a row are impossibly high. But there they were, five redfish in a tight pod with their heads down rooting in the same patch of grass.
I dropped the anchor and slid over the side of the kayak into calf-deep water.
And just as it had happened the previous morning, the lead fish pulled its head out of the sea grass and slurped my chartruese popper from the surface.
Same patch of grass, same fly, same long run in the same direction.