My buddy and I tried fishing at Pitt St bridge, but it was just way too windy. So we packed up and moved to North Charleston Riverfront Park to try to get out of the wind. It worked, and we got out of the wind, but the fishing was terrible. We got a tiny whiting and three tiny toadfish.
The fishing might have been bad, but the entertainment was amazing. One methhead-looking lady was flailing about all over the pier mumbling to herself and making racist comments. At one point she exclaimed, “DON’T MIND ME! I’M ON MORPHINE!” Her “daughter” who looked just as trashed eventually came over and collected her.
A fellow who goes by the name “Cowboy” was very open about sharing his 15-year Navy career and all of the secrets of fishing the pier. He had a sailor’s vocabulary, but seemed like a pretty nice guy.
Another guy who seemed very normal showed us the sheepshead spot. We lost a half-pint of fiddlers and had a good time in the process.
All in all it was a good time. It probably would would have been boring without the cast of characters we saw and met. 
Semper Fi
18’ Sterling
115 Yamaha
Big Ugly Homemade Blue Push Pole
