Tarpon Recap & Charleston Fall Preview

By: Capt. Kyle Morella / Marsh Wear Clothing

Apalachicola, FL sunrise

There’s a stillness in the mornings that’s hard to explain- until it’s shattered by the crack of the distant lightning and the low rumble of a gulf coast squall sliding from the horizon. The heat presses in early. The air hangs heavy. Your arms prickle, every part of you is aware that something could happen–soon.

Tarpon season is a grind unlike anything else. Before the sun rises, you’re already up checking radar, prepping gear, chugging water, organizing flies and leaders, bandaging cut up fingers, sharpening hooks and checking knots one last time. You leave the dock knowing the next 8 hours could deliver a moment that makes your whole season– or absolutely shatter your dreams. Maybe the day just ends in busted flies, bloodied knuckles and a laugh with someone who needed the escape as bad as you did.

There are few fish that test  you like tarpon. Patience. Precision. Mental fortitude. Gear durability. It all gets exposed. And that’s what makes it worth doing.

This season left a trail– bent rods, boat repairs, broken leaders and a few fish I’ll be thinking about all winter. The gulf gave us clean water and lots of opportunities for big fish swimming over sand. But like every season, it doesn’t really end. You just change zip codes.

Now back home in Charleston– back to the pluff mud, where the game continues. Same fish, different rules. Dirty water. Big tides. And just enough chaos to keep your hands shaking on every cast.

Photo: Noble Davidson

The Final Week– Forgotten Coast Fly Co. Tarpon Retreat

The last week of tarpon season was one I’ll never forget. I had the chance to guide during the Forgotten Coast Fly company tarpon retreat and it felt like the seasons exhale – tired bodies, fried brains, and just enough left in the tank to make something special happen. Danielle Davidson put together one hell of a trip, her planning, organizing, and ability to bring people together turned a hot, stormy stretch of Florida into one of the most meaningful weeks of the year.

Most of us had never met before day one, but by day five we were a proper tarpon family– laughing, cussing, sweating… (like a lot), dodging storms and cheering each other on from other skiffs. We had our fair share of shots. It wasn’t easy fishing, but the optimism never wavered. That alone says everything about the crew.

We cooked out, hit some local spots and spent the week in one of the last real corners of Florida– a stretch of cast that doesn’t hand out fish easily, but always rewards the right group. The kind of place where the people you fish with matter more than the numbers. That’s what makes it stick. 

When you share sunrises, slow afternoons, and skiff stories with folks day in and day out, you start to build something more lasting than a week-long trip. You build trust, respect and a real desire to share the skiff again sometime down the line.

If the season had to end in Florida, I’m glad it ended with them

(maybe ill do a piece of the tarpon camp)

Dockside Half-shell, Apalachicola, FL Photo: Wes Frazer @wesfrazer

Every season teaches you something. This year it was about trusting your gut, staying patient and when things felt dead, knowing that the window–however small– will open. Sometimes all it takes is one fish. One shot. One moment. That was the running theme this summer. 

Tarpon don’t care how much you want it. They don’t care who is on the other end of the fly rod. They’ll humble you quickly. You can do everything right and still lose the fight. Or blow a shot you’ve been waiting on all morning. And that’s part of the magic. The game is honest, brutal, beautiful and addictive. 

I’m grateful to the clients who understood that– who kept showing up, day after day, still fired up even after being denied by fish #1,#2, and #3. The ones who kept their heads in the game. Those are the people I want on the skiff. Those are the ones who get it. 

This summer, we shared victories, gut punches, glassy slicks and ugly winds, early eats and long stretches of nothing. And in all of it, there was this thread of mutual respect–for the fish, for the process, for each other. That’s what kept me going.

So, to everyone who came down, stepped on the skiff, picked up a rod and stayed hopeful–I appreciate you more than you know.

Fun day running from storms looking for triple tail. Photo: Wes Frazer @wesfrazer

There’s something to be said for waking up in your own bed after months on the road. The same sunrise hits differently when it’s from a familiar shoreline. Being back in Charleston doesn’t mean the season slows down– it just shifts into a new rhythm.

Tarpon are still in play here. But the windows of opportunity get smaller, more technical. You trade the gulfs clean water and gentle tides for pluff mud, big swings and fish that show up in unexpected places. Same species. A whole new challenge.

What makes this time of year special isn’t just the tarpon– it’s the options. Fall in the lowcountry is when things come alive. You’ve got bull reds chasing the bait into the shallows, triple tail free floating along grass lines, shrimp flooding the marshes and redfish tailing on the flood tides. One cast might be a rolling tarpon. The next, to a cruising redfish showering shrimp in the shallows.

The days still feel long coming off summer, but the light starts to shift. The sunsets feel earned. You find yourself chasing every inch of daylight, knowing the fishing only gets better as the temps drop.

Coming back home doesn’t mean leaving Florida behind. It just means more opportunities, more shots, and more ways to lose yourself in this place. If you’re an angler who’s after more than just numbers– if you like the process, the challenge, the variety– fall in Charleston, SC is where you want to be. 

Charleston, SC sunrise belly crawling redfish

Fall in Charleston is more than just a great time to fish—it’s a chance to experience one of the most unique cities in the country, both on and off the water. It’s the only place where you can chase tarpon in the morning, eat world-class food by lunch, and be back on the flood flats with a redfish tail waving at you by sunset.

This is the season for couples, families, and anyone who wants to blend wild, raw Lowcountry nature with the historic charm, food, and hospitality of Charleston. The fishing is world-class—but it’s just one part of what makes this place so special.

Here’s a look at how the next few months shape up on the water:

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AUGUST

• Not the “late season” just yet—we’re right in the middle of Charleston’s tarpon run
  
• Tarpon opportunities are still strong, but more technical: tighter windows, selective fish, and often just one or two key shots per session
  
• Typical day might look like: tarpon first thing, redfish on the flats mid-day, check for tarpon again on the way in
  
• Redfish are active and aggressive, feeding hard on bait as water stays warm
  
• Flood tide season is in full swing—tailing reds are regular, especially on good moon tides
  
• Tripletail are always a possibility—just not the headline species
  
• Expect heat, but also consistent productivity if you’re willing to adapt
  

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SEPTEMBER

• Peak flood tide month—some of the best tides of the year for technical redfish eats
  
• Water temps hold steady, keeping fish active and visible
  
• Tarpon are still in the system—moving through during their migration

• Shrimp start pushing in heavy, pulling reds shallow and sparking aggressive surface behavior
  
• Great month for sight-fishing, exploring new edges, and mixing things up depending on the tide
  
• If you want classic Lowcountry redfishing with a chance at tarpon, this is the time
  

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OCTOBER

• Cooler mornings start creeping in, and the fishing stays hot
  
• Flood tides continue strong—tailing reds become even more aggressive with cooler water
  
• Tarpon presence starts to fade, but some can still be wrangled in warmer zones early in the month
  
• Bull reds become more consistent, still pushing into the flats
  
• Shrimp and bait remain thick, drawing predators into predictable ambush points
  
• One of the most well-rounded fishing months in Charleston
  

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NOVEMBER

• Water cools noticeably, but the redfish fire up—sight-fishing at its peak
  
• Lower tides offer crystal-clear conditions and schooling redfish in shallow creeks
  
• Shrimp are still around, but thinning—fish are fattening up for winter
  
• This is the best time for low-tide technical redfish action on foot or poling skiffs
  
• Great month for those who love stalking shallow water targets
  

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Pro Tips & Insider Notes

• It’s all about tides—time your trips here around movement, not the clock
  
• Keep your gear versatile: be ready to swap from shrimp patterns to baitfish to something crabby in a matter of minutes
  
• Tarpon might be around, or might not—but always be rigged for them, just in case
  
• Fall fishing in Charleston rewards creativity, patience, and a little bit of stubbornness

If you’ve fished with me before, you know the deal. And if you haven’t—consider this your invite.

Fall is here. The tides are lining up. The fish are moving. And Charleston is doing what it does best—quiet mornings, loud eats, and just enough chaos to keep things interesting.

Whether you’re looking to hunt a tailing red in a foot of water, get your heart broken by a Lowcountry tarpon, or just spend a few days wrapped up in the rhythm of this place—we’re doing it. Get on the books today!

The skiff is ready. Let’s go find something worth remembering.

Capt. Kyle Morella

Charleston, SC Fall Sunset