September 9 – “Not a single crab”

Not a bad day at all yesterday.  Never a bad day when you get to take a few hours and go fishing.  I saw on the Weatherbug live camera feed set up at the San Luis that the beachfront was relatively calm, so I pulled on my fishing garb and headed on out to my wade fishing spot in front of WalMart.  Grabbed some bait first from Tucker’s Bait Shop on 61^st Street.  When it’s available they always have good sized live shrimp.  Yesterday was no exception.

I wondered a bit at first whether the day would be productive.  The current was kind of strong and the waves were entering from the Mexico side rather than the Mississippi River side, so things seemed a little off.  Then the first catch was a hardhead catfish, never a good sign.  Things began to look up, though, with the first speckled trout, and even though I had to release a few that were too small, I ended up keeping eight specks.  That’s my favorite seafood, so I thought I’d start with them.  I kept some of the whiting that saw fit to grace the end of the line.  They are nothing special to eat, but they do make good “fried fish McNuggets.” 

At one point a wave of ladyfish came through.  They are very small, long and skinny fish that think they are tarpon.  They hit the line with extreme force and fight the hook by leaping into the airs every chance they get.  They are kind of fun to reel in, but they don’t make good bait and they are certainly not worth eating. 

I hooked a red.  Definitely keeper size.  But as I attempted to transfer him into the live well he slipped out of my hands and I could do naught but wave as he slowly swam away.  Sad.  I hooked another one later on, though.  Much bigger than that first.  He made no less than five strong runs where he took off against the drag on my reel.  I got him up close enough to me that I could see he was a big one.  But about that time he took off on run number six and summarily broke the line.  Very sad.  Tough to lose one like that. 

I had quite an assortment of fish fry potential when I got down to the last two tiny little shrimp in my bait bucket.  They were both dead by this time, so I hooked them up and tossed them out for the last cast of the day.  Even that cast came back fruitful.  A little croaker was hooked by all three barbs of the treble.  I got him off, and on a whim, I rehooked him on his back and dropped him into the water to swim around while I got everything together to head home.  Of course, since I wasn’t paying close attention, as I let go of him I also let go of the reel with my thumb and a backlash spun into existence.  That took a while to correct, but I finally pulled out the last of it and began reeling in.  And when I reached the point of being able to feel the tug of my little croaker, I realized at once that the force on the other end of the line was more than that little croaker could produce. 

Sure enough, as soon as I felt that initial tug, the line tightened and the drag kicked in with a buzz.  Croaker for bait made me hope for the best, and the way the fight began led me to believe that I had just received an unprecedented third chance at landing a red fish.  I decided to fight this one differently that the other two.  I started backing toward the shore so I would have the advantage when the fight drew to its end.  It was indeed a good battle.  He made several good runs as I backed closer and closer to the beach.  He finally began to tire and I was able to get him close enough to muscle him onto the sand.  As I moved over to put him into the net, the line broke.  Too late for him, I’m afraid.  He was beached.  Very nice size.  Not really a bull, but at the upper end of keeper size.  Just right for a barbeque or to bake up with some lemon and spices. 

As often happens, I had an audience for that final fight.  A man and lady on bicycles had stopped to watch the action and see what I pulled in.  They congratulated me warmly and continued on.  Another lady walked up as I was loading up the truck.  Her question?  “Did you catch any crabs?”  Wait.  What?  Crabs?  I chuckled and told her no, that I had been fishing.  She frowned her disappointment and didn’t even care to look at the fish.  Wow.  Perspective is everything, I guess.

Psalms 27:13-14 says, “I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”

Father, thank you for providing some more food for my family.  And on that perspective thing … give me yours.  Amen.