Was down at South Padre this past weekend, or "The Island" as it's referred in these here parts, to do a little R&R with some of Mrs. Bulba's side of the family. Actually purchased and consumed two (2) cans of Schlitz beer--they were in a cooler beside the door at Jim's Pier where I was loitering with my brother in law, Rick, swapping lies and insults with guides and other local drunks. He likes frequenting Jim's to mostly irritate the younger guys who are hoping he'll divulge where he's catching fish (Rick is a seriously good bay fisherman). Essentially, wherever he tells them he's having success is pretty much directly across the Laguna Madre from where he actually was--he's kind of like the "Nokoya Comanche" referenced in "The Searchers." As Ethan Edwards said of them, "Man tells you one thing, he means another." That's Rick when it comes to where you should point your boat the next day. Anyway, I stuck the Schlitz in the cooler on Rick's boat and found them the next morning when we were on our way out to wherever it was that Rick decided we should go--I have no idea and have a generally poor sense of direction on the bay--so he really doesn't have to blindfold me or anything. He knows his secrets are safe with Bulba aboard. So, at about 7:30AM we pulled into our first destination, "Horsehead" (there's a tip for you) and set up a drift and I set up a Schlitz--it was as good as time as any to do something stupid aboard the boat and you can always count on me for some idiotic stunt on the water. Schlitz, as you are very well aware, was once one of the big three of American beers but you're hard pressed to even find one now. Horrible bidness decisions have rendered them a virtual non entity and you're lucky to find a twelve pack or two squeezed into the edge of the lower priced beers at your local grocer--they are highly marginalized. I looked at their site and it actually proclaims that they have returned to their "sixties formula" and have hired a '68 Playboy pinup gal for their ad campaign. Okay. Anyway, I popped the Schlitz and it immediately struck me as having a taste and smell that I remembered from earlier years--hoppiness maybe? Whatever it was/is it wasn't entirely awful. After boating a trout (yes, by Rick) we headed over to an old "go to" spot that I actually remembered quite well from the old days when I actually fished a lot and could call myself a fisherman. It's hard to get to and then requires a hike overland to a back channel (I'm wearing wading boots that are about twenty years old) but the reds were there and we proceeded to limit out in well under an hour of happy work. A few hero shots from Rick's disposable camera, including one with the second Schlitz proudly in view and then we headed back as masters of our dominion, or at least of some unfortunate redfish who yielded to the temptation of a red and white on a quarter ounce jighead. I guess you can go home again after all.
3 comments:
It's been so long since I have been fishing that I barely remember what to do anymore. I have lucked out and found a guide to help me though, and come May 1st I'll put the new boat in the water for the first time and see what we can find. I have been daydreaming about the beer and quiet for the last month.
The biggest and most important thing to fishing and hunting is the just being there part. The Laguna Madre is so full of life both in the water and on the shoreline and in the sky. I've always liked that part of it. Good luck with your guide.
Meaningful proverbs are often found in unlikely places. I think that's part of why the Bible is difficult to read. We want it be a users' manual with step by step instructions on life. Instead, it's a collection of allegory, aphorism, platitude, metaphor.
I think you could replace "fishing and hunting" in your first sentence with just about any worthwhile pursuit and it still rings true. It worked for Polish-fighting Cossacks. It works now.
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