Tavares Bradley works in fly fishing media. He lives in Biloxi, Mississippi, close enough to the marsh and the islands to be dangerous. He fishes saltwater primarily — sight fishing on the fly, reading water, hunting fish the hard way.
But ask him why he fishes and he doesn't reach for the usual answers.
"I'm not really sure, but I do know it's the only thing that slows everything down for me. Out there, I'm so immersed into the experience that I think about nothing but my surroundings."
Where It Started
It started on the piers. His grandfather. Bull reds and funky drummas and a heavy spin reel setup built for distance. Before they even wet a line, they caught their own bait — cast nets his grandfather handmade himself. They'd fill the live well, then sling shrimp as far as they possibly could and wait.
A man who makes his own nets teaches you something without ever saying it out loud. You show up prepared. You build what you need. You put in the work before the work starts.
Tavares has been doing that ever since.
The Kenai
Ask Tavares for his favorite fishing memory and he takes you somewhere most people will never go.
Alaska. The Kenai River. Fly fishing for salmon.
With his two daughters.
There's a version of that trip that's about the fish — the river, the runs, the weight of a salmon on a fly rod. But that's not really what it was. It was two daughters on a river in Alaska with their dad, doing the thing he loves most. That's the memory. That's what he'll carry.
The People
When asked what drives him — the catch, the chase, the process, or the people — Tavares doesn't hesitate.
"It's the people for me. Don't get me wrong, the other aspects are important to me, but interacting with the people at festivals, tournaments, and events is the best part."
He's not just being polite. He means it in the way people mean things when they've thought about it for a long time.
"Fishing is just fishing without the camaraderie of your friends and family and the community to share it with."
For someone who works in fly fishing media — who shows up at the events, talks to the people, tells the stories — that's not a talking point. That's the whole reason.
What the Water Teaches
His biggest lesson from a life on the fly is one word. But he earns it.
"Patience. Whether that's with weather shifts, undoing line tangles and knots, or figuring out fish patterns and habits."
Sight fishing demands all of it. You can't force the flat to cooperate. You can't make the clouds break or the wind die down. You wait, you watch, and you stay ready for the moment it all comes together. That's the game — and it bleeds into everything else if you let it.
On the fishery, his answer is direct. Limit or outlaw pogie boat operations. No ambiguity, no hedging. He knows what he's seen and he knows what it costs.
What's Left
Golden Dorado on fly. That's the one — and if he could be on a plane tomorrow, he's somewhere in South America chasing it. The fish that keeps pulling him forward.
Until then, he'll keep showing up. At the marsh, at the events, at the festivals. Building the community that makes the whole thing worth doing. Guided by a line he carries from someone who understood what it means to leave a mark:
"You are responsible for how people remember you — or don't. So don't take it lightly."
— Kobe Bryant
Tavares isn't taking it lightly.
We're proud to have him in After Work Featured.
Sean Nguyen (@vin_nguyen)