Monday, September 30, 2013

A fish story

Grandson Kyle caught his first fish over the weekend.  His pleasure was dampened somewhat by a rain downpour which shortened the Cub Scout camp out.

I told him I was reminded of my first fish.  We were enjoying a rare family outing on the Fourth of July, spending the day on Bayou Dorcheat. I was guided by an older cousin who was a veteran of many fishing trips. When my cork went under and I felt a tug I yanked, the fish came flying out of the water over my head and into a tree. I don't remember getting it down but obviously we did because I caught more fish.   Over the years, I often fished at that spot, which was occupied by fish who could eat all the bait off  while avoiding the hook.

That particular day when we were called to lunch, I baited a hook with a fish head, stuck the end of the pole in the bank, and left.  I returned  about 30 minutes later to find my pole bent toward the water and the line tight.  I pulled against a heavy weight and landed not a fish but a moccasin snake.

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