Fishing Trip Turns Into an Adventure

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Have you ever been fishing when the events turned out great, strange, and badly all during the same trip? This rhymed story was one of those trips. If you had such a fishing trip, how about sharing it with us (no rhyming required). "The Sea of Gulping Mouths" New Or-le-ans was quite a place Of music, fun, and food. A special fish came from the Gulf And tasted really good. They call this fish the speckled trout Enjoyed by one and all. And those who caught a trash can full Could earn themselves a haul. A local church was just the place To serve while going to school To earn a more advanced degree And use it like a tool. One day a member came to me With some exciting news; He wanted me to go with him And take a little cruise Upon his two-man fishing boat To catch some speckled trout; My answer was a great big "YES! I'll go, without a doubt." We took aboard a big trash can In which to place our catch. The only tackle that we took Were rods and reels that matched. Our bait was something really queer Which I did not foresee; A rubber shrimp tail, that was all. With head of lead to sink. The *bayou that we traveled on Was easy, straight and true. We moved along with joy in hopes The fish would be there too. We had not reached the Gulf as yet When something strange occured; The boat did hit something quite hard; Something which was submerged. We searched and searched to no avail For damage to our boat; "A bullet dodged is one that missed." As long as we could float. So on we went, a few more miles Then finally to the Gulf. And as we entered, there she stood! An oil rig, tall and tough. Her *blow-off valve was blazing strong And very plain to see. The sea around was very calm, Like glass, it seemed to me. When we arrived it now was dark So now the blaze seemed bright. We tied our boat near to the fire; We planned to fish all night. And as the current moved our boat Aback from giant blaze We saw the stirring of the trout And knew this was the place. As time went by our arms grew tired Of casting constantly. My friend reclined on padded seat To nap quite peacefully. But "die hard" me just couldn't quit Our can was halfway full. So I kept casting to and fro But soon there was a lull. My lure began to act real strange; No longer would it splash. Instead it bounced on something hard Before it sank at last. I strained to see what was the cause Of this phenomenon What looked like bubbles on the sea Kept coming on and on. The light from yonder blazing fire Just added mystery To what was headed toward our boat What still, I could not see. I reached for spotlight near my feet To shine upon the scene. And what I saw was so unique I still cannot believe. Soon the disturbance reached our boat Where I could clearly see Just what those bubbles really were As they surrounded me. As far as any eye could see Were tiny catfish there Just floating very shallowly; A sight extremely rare. Their mouths agape, they seemed to gulp At something floating near; The motion of their gulping mouths Appeared as bubbles there. I called my friend to wake up quick "There's something you should see." That's when he saw (with disbelief) Those things disturbing me. They swarmed together very close Five inches long were they. Just like a carpet on the sea Slow moving on their way. Just as the dawn began to break We noticed something more. The boat was tilting to the *stern This shook me to the core. The space between the back seat and The *transom had begun To fill with water from the Gulf Which ended all our fun. And now we found the damage we Were searching for so bad. We cracked the transom on the boat Where motor clamps are had. We noticed, too, the motor had Begun to sink as well. If we can't get it started now We'd better start to bail. As my friend reach to turn the key To start the motor going We prayed to God to help us out, Our *"life-line" needs some throwing! It started and we sighed relief The motor, straining hard. Two inches more and we'd have sunk But God had done his part. We started out so very slow With motor opened wide. We knew we had to pull the plug In order to survive. As forward motion moved us on I pulled the *transom plug And as the water quickly drained Momentum changed our luck. And as the water emptied out Our speed increased also. Our plight was done, we now were safe. Now homeward we will go. We caught some fish, and had some fun But we were not yet through. We took our can and sold our catch And shared a few bucks too. GLOSSARY Bayou: A narrow canal which usually leads to open water such as the Gulf of Mexico. This word is most popular in southern Louisiana. Blow-off valve: Each offshore oil rig has to have a way to release pressure from natural gas. They install a pipe for such a purpose a short distance away from a rig which gives off a blaze of fire 24 hours a day. Transom: The rear wall in a boat on which the outboard motor is clamped. This is usually the thickest section in a boat for obvious reasons. Stern: The rear of the boat. Transom plug: Most boats have a hole in the transom of the boat to drain off any excess water which may collect during an outing. The hole is plugged with a special device designed for that purpose. "Life-line": A line with a float attached which is thrown to someone who has fallen overboard as a means of staying afloat until rescue. Also, in this poem, it refers to an old gospel song entitled "Throw Out the Lifeline". By Carl J Bridgman December 17, 2024