HAD ENOUGH FUN FOR THE DAY?

#66 - Prob'ly a car, or a 'frigerator

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 Had Enough Fun For The Day? 

Ted goes to work early and gets off early. This gives him an afternoon of fishing any number of places in the abundant waters of southwestern Louisiana. He trailers his 18-foot fishing boat to work so he can head straight to the launch site of the day. 

Most often, his fishing buddy, JR, would meet him at the launch, and off they’d go. Today though, JR was helping T-Man get his duck blind ready for the upcoming hunting season and they were on the other side of the parish. 

Ted put in at Hebert’s (pronounced A-Bear's) Landing and within an hour and a half of getting off work he was on the Intracoastal Waterway Canal nearing the Gibbstown overpass. He’d heard that Redfish, his favorite, were plentiful in the connecting sloughs and marshes off the canal. And they were biting. He had Redfish's favorite bait, dead shrimp, in the cooler. 

A string of fishing camps lined the Canal at the head of a slough that Ted turned into. It was narrow and shallow and wound through thick marsh grass. At times, it was difficult to tell the difference between the slough and water covered marsh. 

It was slow going but the slough eventually opened onto a sizable pond, or lake. Redfish habitat. He figured he was maybe a mile or so from the Intracoastal. 

He gunned his Evinrude to get to the far side of the pond. He would fish there. Five minutes more and the dead shrimp would be working their magic. 

He hit something submerged in the water. The motor kicked up out of the water and the impact threw Ted forward where he hit his forehead on the steering console. The cut bled down his brow and into his right eye.  

The boat stopped dead in the water. 

Rinsing the wound with the salty pond water slowed the bleeding to a trickle and from his first aid kit, he applied a salve and a bandage. Ted didn’t think the cut would need stitches. 

Turning his attention to his motor, he raised it to discover the prop was bent and a blade had been broken off. The housing, up to the motor was damaged with the shaft inside probably bent or broken. The motor mount and the boat’s stern appeared okay. 

He was certain of what he had hit. Prob’ly any one of a number of rooftops, cars, refrigerators, stoves, water tanks, and furniture that hurricane storm surges had deposited in the swamps and marshes over the years, miles inland from their original location. Bodies also traveled on the surge.  

Some of these testaments to the storm’s power remained above water. Most did not. 

He was only a few miles from the Gulf where whole towns and communities had been swept away. Most of these rebuilt again, all the while knowing their vulnerability to future storms. Such is the spirit of those who love their homeland. 

Ted considered himself lucky. He did have a paddle.  

And he had a cell signal. He called his wife, Emma, with the news of his situation, and though upset, she was most alarmed that he had gone fishing alone. This was a rule not to be broken. Yet it was. This would be the unhappy subject of much discussion later. 

After promising Emma updates, he called JR, who told him he would be home before sunset and would then come get him in his boat. He would launch at Hebert’s for the return tow trip to Ted’s trailer. 

Now with Fall’s arrival, it would be dark by the time JR arrived and Ted thought it unlikely that with the maze of waterways through the marsh, he could be found at night.  

They would rendezvous at the Gibbstown fishing camps back at the Canal. Ted was sure he could get there. 

He started paddling but saw that he couldn’t make headway against a South wind that had picked up. And paddling was awkward as he was stretched out over the bow of his boat, and he couldn’t make a proper stroke. He made it to the shoreline. 

He would tow the boat from the bank. It would be slow. He didn’t like the idea, but it was his only option unless he wanted to leave the boat and pick it up later. He still had to walk back. It wasn’t far. Keeping the boat with him was best, if only as a refuge.  

He’d seen alligators along the way in. He’d be on their turf. And there were snakes, ticks, and leeches. He thought of the movie “The African Queen” where Humphrey Bogart pulled the boat, and Katherine Hepburn, through leech infested chest-high water. It gave him pause. 

But he began. At least the water was still warm. The footing was good but in places he sunk up to his waist in soft mud and grass. He was unsure if he was still in the slough. If he left the deeper slough, the lowering tide might strand him for hours.  

It was taking longer than expected. His hands were sore and chaffed from pulling on the towline.

Sunset, twilight, and darkness overtook the marshland. The thin sliver of the new moon fell below the western horizon leaving a star-studded sky shining beyond low scattered clouds. 

Ted could see the lights of camps on the Canal, and the lights of cars going over the overpass. They were still a few hundred yards ahead. 

He was still in the main slough. He arrived at the Canal. A fishing cabin was on the opposite side of the slough. Getting back in his boat he paddled across and tied up at the cabin’s dock. He’d made it. 

Ted saw the running lights of a fishing boat coming up the Canal. When close enough, he saw it was JR, and waved him in to the dock. 

JR pulled up alongside.  

“Most excellent timing,” Ted said as he sat in his boat exhausted.

Smiling, JR said, “Well, have you had enough fun for the day?” 

Ted replied, “I’m cold and tired, and wet and water-logged, and need to check if I’ve picked up any critters.” He stripped down for a quick look, then reached into the boat's storage bin for another pair of jeans and a shirt. He put on his rain slicker for additional warmth.  

“I’m hungry. Got anything to eat?” 

“I’ve got a can of bacon and beans. And some bourbon to wash ‘em down,” JR answered. 

“Well, it’s not blackened Redfish. But I’ll take it!” 

Ted called Emma with an ETA of about three in the morning. Almost time for work.

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