I may fish 5 times a year...I grew up fishing pretty regular with my dad...Crappie was dad's game of choice. We lived near a true mecca for big slab crappie - Lake Martin. We had lots of luck, with the fish anyway. Our boat, an aluminum Lowe with a 40 horse Mercury outboard, would get us anywhere on the lake...it just wouldn't get us back. Every night before a fishing trip, we would have to charge the battery, dad would have to crank it and run it with hose attachment needed for terrestrial running of a boat motor. I remember paddling in the strong current of the Coosa River, while dad "fixed" the boat on several occasions. As much pain as those memories bring, the recollections of the time I spent with my dad and the fish we caught blanket the bad memories. One day, my dad and I found an old stob near Mimosa Point, a jut of land of the Coosa River. Dad looked and said "The book says there ought to be one there"...he said that a lot...the book was wrong on occasion, but not on that day...I remember us pulling slab after fat slab of crappie from the river that day..several, I swear, weighed 4 pounds, very close to state records. That was a fun day...Dad eventually sold the boat to a real sucker...our neighbor down the road...but our neighbor possesed the mechanical ability to fix the boat, and henceforth paraded by our house every weekend...just to show us how much fun he was having. This is where my fishing prowess plummeted.
Once I got into high school, I rarely fished...when I moved to the Inner Banks, I had little choice. There is to much water around to not be reminded about the fun that was possible...Lee often asked me to go fishing, and often I gave in...Lee is die-hard about his fishing...he has a nice boat, with all the implements needed to catch fish. Every time I went fishing, I caught a fish and Lee was skunked...though most of my catches were false-hooks, I was still having luck.
Until last Saturday. Lately, Lee has enjoyed the ability of my boat when it comes to getting into the shallows where the fish like to hang out. My boat drafts little water and can access places his Carnival Cruise ship cannot. So we fished. All morning I came up empty handed, with the exception of several really dumb and annoying crabs. I like my crab from a deep fryer, probably more than anyone, not on the end of my fishing line...Lee caught croakers (which are really weird), and white perch (which are really tasty). My streak of outfishing Lee had come to a close. My only pleasure in fishing, was hosed away. It gets better...after dropping Lee off, I returned to the unimproved boat ramp that I use often. The ramp is "sketch-tastic" at best. My friend Chris avoided putting his boat in after the bear that was there would not leave...this ramp is in the sticks... also, the waterway that it empties into is the stumpiest, snakiest, and gatoriest (yeah, I made that word up) water ever...the blackwater makes it even more mysterious...on top of that, some folks like to dump there garbage there, too. The snakes I can handle, the garbage - nope! Other than the smell and appearance, when it rains it runs off into the water - probably polluting it. So, I get my trailer in the water...the canal is to narrow to warrant driving the boat on the trailer, so I have to wade it around and pull it to the trailer - no big deal - I'm an expert at putting in at strange and difficult places from my waterfowling experience...nevertheless, when I put the trailer down, I realize the boat has floated away from where I had pulled it ashore...should I have tied it up - yeah, but why - I had done this a thousand times...so as I wait for it to blow back to the shore, I watch float towards the Albemarle Sound.I make the decision to jum in the flowing cespool to regain possession of my craft. I have never swam so fast in my life...I was so angry as I motored back to the ramp in my soaking wet shorts. I vowed, right then and there to never fish again...unless someone asks!
Enjoy the day...
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