Damn Good Lake Fishing Charters In The Rigolets

Nestled between the Gulf of Mexico and Lake Pontchartrain, The Rigolets is one of those places that feels like it's been quietly waiting for you your whole life. Out here, time slows down. The brackish water weaves through the bayous, and if you’re lucky, you’ll catch the breeze carrying the scent of salt and cypress. Lake fishing in The Rigolets isn’t about records or trophies—it’s about mornings that start before sunrise, casting into glassy water while herons glide silently overhead.

The fish don’t make it easy, and that’s part of the draw. Redfish, speckled trout, and the occasional flounder test your patience and your rig, keeping you sharp and humble. You’ll be waist-deep in water or casting off an old wooden dock, maybe with a beer tucked into your back pocket, maybe not. There’s no wrong way to do it here. What matters is that you showed up, rod in hand, ready to meet the day on its own terms.

It’s the kind of place that stays with you long after the cooler’s packed and the truck’s headed home. Maybe it’s the way the sun hits the water at dusk, or the quiet thrill of the tug on the line when you least expect it. Lake fishing in The Rigolets is equal parts grit, calm, and wild beauty—just the way we like it.

Fishing The Rigolets isn’t a one-season affair—it’s a year-round pursuit that shifts with the wind, the tides, and the temperature. In spring, the waters start waking up. Speckled trout move in from deeper bays, redfish begin cruising the shallows, and the whole area feels alive with potential. You’ll want to keep your tackle light and your instincts sharp, because the fish are active, but unpredictable. Spring’s the season for exploration—trying new spots, chasing movement, and letting the changing current guide your day.

Come summer, the heat sets in, and the rhythm changes. Early mornings and late evenings are your windows. Midday, the water gets quiet, and so should you. But when it’s good, it’s real good—topwater bites at sunrise, reds tailing through marsh grass, and the occasional flounder hanging out in deeper cuts. There’s something timeless about summer fishing here: shirt sticking to your back, sunburned shoulders, cold beer waiting in the cooler, and that one fish you can’t stop thinking about, even after it's long gone.

Fall is where The Rigolets really shines. Water temps drop, baitfish school up, and the action turns fast and aggressive. Specks go into feeding mode, redfish bulk up for winter, and just about everything seems to be biting. It’s a season that rewards experience but welcomes anyone willing to put in the time. And winter? That’s when it’s just you, the cold air, and the quiet. Fewer boats, fewer distractions, and a raw kind of beauty. The fish are still there—you just have to earn them. And around here, that’s exactly how we like it.

Nestled where Lake Pontchartrain spills into Lake Borgne, The Rigolets is a salty, slow-moving strait that rewards patience and a good cast. It’s the kind of place where early mornings smell like brine and cypress, and the fish bite with purpose. The go-to for many locals is bottom fishing—drop a line with live shrimp or cut bait and let the tide do the talking. Redfish, black drum, and sheepshead hug the bridge pylons and rocky drop-offs, waiting for something tasty to drift their way.

Then there’s topwater fishing—best tackled at dawn when the water’s glassy and quiet. A well-placed lure skipping across the surface can trigger explosive strikes from speckled trout cruising the flats. It’s more art than science; part patience, part adrenaline. Cast toward the shoreline or grassy points where the baitfish play, and let instinct lead your retrieval. The beauty of The Rigolets lies in its unpredictability—every cast has the promise of a fight.

For the purists, kayak fishing offers a stripped-down way to experience these waters. No engine noise, no distractions—just you, a paddle, and a rod. Glide through narrow channels and marshy backwaters that motorboats can’t touch, where redfish tail in the shallows and flounder settle in the mud. It’s a slower pace, sure, but there’s a quiet reward in being immersed in the rhythm of the tide. Whether you’re casting from a bridge, a skiff, or a sit-on-top kayak, The Rigolets offers that rare kind of fishing that’s as much about the moment as the catch.

The Rigolets is a fish-lover’s playground, where brackish waters pull in saltwater bruisers and freshwater favorites alike. It’s not uncommon to reel in a redfish with shoulders like a linebacker one moment, then hook a speckled trout with a silver shimmer the next. Redfish are the locals’ pride—powerful, aggressive, and often lurking near structure or cruising the grassy edges. They’ll crush a topwater plug like it owes them money, especially on an early morning tide shift.

Speckled trout are another Rigolets staple, especially in the cooler months when they stack up near deeper channels and bridge pilings. These spotted predators hit soft plastics, shrimp, or twitchbaits with a finesse that makes them a favorite among light tackle anglers. The trick? Keep your presentation natural and let the current do most of the work. And if you’re fishing right around sunrise or sunset, there’s a good chance you’ll land a limit before the coffee even cools.

Don’t sleep on the less flashy species either. Black drum—sometimes pushing thirty pounds—can turn a casual trip into an arm workout in no time. Sheepshead with their gnarly teeth and striped armor hang close to barnacle-encrusted pilings, nibbling at fiddler crabs and bits of shrimp. And every once in a while, a flounder will surprise you with a hard thump and a fight that feels far bigger than it looks. In The Rigolets, you’re not just fishing—you’re running into the wild, salty heartbeat of Louisiana’s coastal waters.