A Tale Of Fishing And Water Aerobics

For many years it has been a passion and lifestyle for my mother and stepfather( above picture) to fish during the spring for Crappie. I can remember back when my uncles and aunts, cousins, parents and anyone else that wanted to tag along would gather up the ice chests and pack sandwiches for our daily treks up Big Creek or up the River to fish for crappie during the spring spawn. Sometimes we would be in three or four boats, full of friends and family headed out for a fun day of fishing. The weather didn't always play along with our plans and sometimes only the most dedicated of the bunch would head out on those days. In the springtime Lake Bridgeport water temperatures are just starting to warm up with the longer sunny days in March and April. For the most part the water temperatures range in the upper 50s to upper 60s during the day. It never failed in the past that one of us, usually my uncle Leon, would inevitably end up slipping getting in or out of the boat and take a  brisk dive fully clothed. It wasn't always him, and this year it so happened to be mom.

The tale as I hear it goes something like this........They were fishing miles up the river in Papa Harolds boat somewhere around Beans Creek, another boat with our cousins in it was also up there with them. The cousins had fished on up the creek a short ways so they didn't get to see the whole ordeal, so they can't honestly tell us what happened. Mom and Harold had found one of Papa Harolds "Honey Holes" and were pulling fish in left and right. As time wore on mom started catching more fish than Papa. Now knowing Papa like I do, because we have fished together many years, I know that he gets a little upset when someone starts catching more fish than him. Now let me insert this bit of info right quick. He has been my stepfather for 31 years and I have never seen him upset about anything.......except......catching more fish than him, and using up all of his minnows. Back to the story. Papa is setting there getting madder and madder and trying to figure out a way that he can turn the tables around on her a little bit. So he devises a plan, the next time that mom leans over to unhang her cork or move a limb out of the way, he would act like he fell and bump into her so she would drop her pole or something causing the fish on her end of the boat to come to his end of the boat. So sure enough, mom hangs up and she starts leaning over to grab her line and Papa shakes the boat and kicks the troll motor into high gear and .....splash, over the side she goes. Now remember, the water is cold and deep, mom is fully clothed and shes hanging onto the pole and trying to tred water and Papa is so stunned all he can do is set and mutter, "Why Dorothy, what happened"? He finally realizes that she can't touch bottom and turns the troll motor towards her so that she can grab a hold of the side of the boat.

About this time, after hearing all the commotion, the cousins come around the corner (above picture) to see what all the hollering is about. By now, mom has realized what happened. She also has fished with Papa for many years and knows how he is when he don't catch as many fish as others, and she's hollering at him, and cussing and carrying on, saying words that a sailor would be proud of. Now all of you people that go to Sunday School with mom, please forgive her and put Papa on the prayer list. These people turn into different human beings when they are up the creek fishing. I don't get to go up the creek fishing with them very often anymore, but I'm pretty sure if this kind of activity is what goes on while they are up there, it is no wonder my mom has a daily devotional every morning. When the cousins get close enough they see what has happened they go to her so that she can hang onto their boat, because by now, Papa Harolds cork has went under again and he turned loose of mom so as not to let the Crappie get off his line. Mom starts yelling again and is getting highly aggitated, not to mention fearing hypothermia and then the cousins drag her over to the bank so that she can get out of the water. The whole time Papa is oblivious to her because he has a big ol flat slab Crappie yanking on his line. The story gets murky at this point because I have now heard 4 different versions of the tale, all slightly different. What I do know for certain is that when they got back to the lakehouse, Mom headed straight for the house and Papa hung around down on the dock with a broken cigar hanging out of his mouth  till all the lights went out. He then sneaked up to the house where he found all the doors locked and had to sleep out on the back porch all night.

The truth is. They really were up Bean Creek fishing last week and Mom really did lean over and lose her balance and fall out of the boat into the lake, fully clothed and with her cell phone in her pocket. I might have taken some liberties with the details.

I love you Papa Harold and Mom. Thanks for all that you do and I hope you enjoying your retirement.