Salkehatchie River redbreast with Aaron Rentz
By Ford Walpole
Although Lowcountry saltwater rivers tend to get more attention, our region’s inland blackwater rivers have long provided exciting freshwater angling opportunities during the late spring and summer seasons. The redbreast sunfish (formally known as Lepomis auratus) is a particularly tasty and beautiful fish among the many species more generally included under the umbrella term bream.
Aaron Rentz has been fishing for redbreast his entire life. “I started freshwater fishing with my granddaddy and my daddy when I was a little boy,” he says. We fished Cypress Swamp in the Ashley up towards Givhans and we also fished Horsehoe Creek off the Ashepoo. Back then we used cane poles and bream busters.”
Rentz still fishes out of the same 14-foot aluminum johnboat he bought new from Seels Outboard in 1979. These days, he uses a trolling motor when working against the current, but as a boy in the wooden boat built by his grandfather, a wooden paddle was the only means of power. “And back then, if it was your job to paddle, you didn’t get to fish!” he laughs.
Aaron points out that many people tend only to associate good redbreast fishing with the Edisto River and (to a lesser extent) the Black River. “You can also catch redbreast in the Combahee and Ashepoo, but you are liable to catch more bream in those rivers,” he explains. However, Rentz enjoys working the quieter, less accessible waters of the Salkehatchie River, which is “the furthest most point of the ACE Basin.” Redbreast abound in the Salkehatchie where he says it is “very seldom that you will catch a bluegill bream.”
When I accompanied Aaron on a fishing trip, it was evident how deeply he cares for the swamp — “the last piece of freestanding tupelo-cypress on this end of the river.” The river is much tighter and more difficult to navigate since Hurricane Matthew blew trees across the channel. Majestic egrets plied the waters and flew above us as they crossed the river. On our ride down the dirt road from the landing on this private tract, we spotted a nice gobbler. Because of the seclusion, “deer lay up on the riverbank, and you can go right by them without them even getting up,” he says. “This area is just so undisturbed; the deer, turkeys and fish don’t get as much pressure as they do in other places.”
Also, “it is always shady in this river,” he points out. “Out in the Edisto at midday, the temperature gets up to 90 degrees. But because the Salkehatchie is smaller and shadier, you can fish all day here.” Although this time of year is prime redbreast season, “a lot of times, you can come fishing during the winter and still pick up a mess of redbreast. That time of year, you will catch more bass and jackfish, the local, Southern name for pickerel,” he continues.
Although biologists would likely point out that all redbreasts statewide are the same species, Rentz has noticed that a Salkehatchie redbreast differs from its Edisto counterpart: “These fish are a lot brighter than redbreast in the Edisto. We have big ones, but ours tend to be shorter and stockier.” Generally, the males (or “roosters”) are bigger and brighter and the females (“hens”) tend to be smaller and lighter in color and lack the brilliant red of the roosters.
Anglers in this area honor a gentlemen’s agreement that ensures responsible conservation: release the hens so that they can spawn, return all the smaller fish to the river, and keep only the roosters you plan to eat. Many people still fish for freshwater panfish the old-time way — with a cane pole. The fiberglass, telescopic bream buster is a modern modification on this age-old method. Spinning reels on short rods is perhaps the most practical method. “I like the spinner; it seems more productive,” Rentz tells us. “A lot of people get annoyed with me because I like to move around a lot. “Eighty percent of the people who fish for redbreast do it the same way: with a live cricket on a beetle spin. Just like with most things, everybody has their own little twists. You can fish with only the artificial, but crickets just enhance redbreast fishing. It makes the bite just a little bit harder,” he says.
“Some people who fish in one place prefer worms to crickets, but I like to move around a lot — even if it annoys the people who go fishing with me, and crickets work better when you are moving. When I go with my daddy or the grandkids, then the pace is a lot slower, and I stay a little closer to the landing,” he says. Rentz frequently goes fishing with his father and granddaughters, Adalyn (Ada) Jones and Bell Rentz.
“So far, it’s been a good year for redbreast!” Rentz notes. Our particular trip was cut short due to lightning, a frequent occurrence on afternoon outings, but we did manage to catch a number of fish, a few of which were nice keepers, but all of which we nonetheless released. Heavy rain, accompanied by hail, began to fall shortly after we returned to the hill. The previous afternoon, Rentz and his father had limited out in less than forty-five minutes.
Aaron’s father, Jake Rentz, age 82, loves the solitude fishing affords him, and he acknowledges that the sport is one of the things that keeps him going. Mr. Rentz grew up fishing in the ACE Basin. His grandfather was the blacksmith at White Hall Plantation, and his Uncle Joe Garvin was the caretaker of Cherokee Plantation on the Combahee–during the ‘30s and ‘40s.
“My uncle fished with a cane pole and a fly rod. I always limited out when I fished with the fly rod,” Jake says. “I killed my first deer with a single-barrel .410 on Cherokee Plantation when I was 10 years old. My uncle tore my behind up for shooting a doe, though. You couldn’t shoot does back then, but I didn’t care at the time,” he laughs when recalling his ACE Basin childhood.
“Every time we got finished fishing my daddy always cooked the fish right on the bank at the landing. He had a little butane camping stove, and he cooked fish and hush puppies, and that’s all we had to eat,” Jake says, emphasizing the importance of a successful trip. “Of course, there wasn’t much to the landings; they were all dirt, except Combahee Landing, which was the only concrete one.”
Wally Fennell and Herman Crosby were Colleton County game wardens in those days, and the conservation officers had a knack, or rather noses, for determining when the Rentz men were preparing meals. “Herman and Wally always showed up right when it was time to time to eat the fish!” Jake says. In the early ‘60s, the elder Rentz once landed a bluegill bream which he was certain would have been the state record. “But I was waiting for Herman to come weigh it, and Wally scaled it — because he was more interested in eating that fish!”
Aaron filets the larger redbreast, and he scales and cleans the medium-sized ones. While he acknowledges that many folks choose to grill their fish, he prefers to fry his fish in a pan with Zatarain’s breading mix. Like his grandfather and father before him, he usually serves hush puppies, as well. When the Rentz family feasts on a mess of redbreast, they make sure to remind us that bread and hot sauce are staples of the meal.
Although the summer finds Aaron Rentz in pursuit of redbreast, he is a consummate outdoorsman throughout these lands and waters. He is a competition coon hunter and remains passionate about deer and turkeys. For the past 20 years, he has been trapping nuisance predators that threaten game species, particularly the non-native coyote. Rentz now humanely traps for more than 60 landowners across the Lowcountry. “I have probably got the most interesting job there is,” he reflects. “This plantation work that we do is not a job, though; it’s a lifestyle and a family.” On June 7, Turkeys for Tomorrow is hosting South Carolina Habitat Day at Medway Plantation in Goose Creek at which Aaron will be offering a trapping demonstration.
“When I was a boy, somebody had to take me hunting and fishing,” Rentz recalls. Thus, he is thankful that his grandfather, father and others took the time to teach him about the outdoors, and he likewise feels a calling to return the favor, a lesson that extends far beyond his own grandchildren and family members.
This past year, Rentz introduced a number of children to deer and turkey hunting. “Very few kids come out who don’t also get a chance to shoot something or catch a fish. I want them to have that opportunity!” he declares. “All of the kids I take hunting and fishing have fun. We make it interesting, and they come back years later and share their memories. Daddy cooks hot dogs, and we all put in a lot of effort to show them a good time,” he says. “I consider myself very fortunate to host an exceptional crowd!”
Ford Walpole lives and writes on John’s Island and is the author of many articles on the outdoors. He teaches English at James Island Charter High School and the College of Charleston and may be reached at fordwalpole@gmail.com.
