Joined: 25 May 2009 Posts: 615 Location: somewhere on 130 miles of beach
Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2015 2:01 pm Post subject: PINS 2/6-2/12
"Well I've always wished...you know...that the bottles...the bottles and even the sand...could just talk. Talk. Ya know? Anything. Anything to tell a story...and that's what keeps me wandering. That's what keeps me a-walking and a-looking all these years.
--Louis Rawalt, 1965 interview
"Well yes, most of the artifacts in my collection are found above Little Shell, ya know, below the Nueces County Park, below the old Corpus Pass. That's where the biggest Tonkawa camp ever was, smack dab in the middle of the golf course they've got there now."
"Well after they parked those bulldozers out there, I knew, that was it. They were gonna build that golf course come he** or high water, Indian camp be darned. I went out there at night, ya know, and saved what I could. But I couldn't get it all of course, and it's all gone now, the bulldozers did the rest."
--Louis Rawalt, interview from later years
"Disciplined archaeological investigations on Padre Island have revealed approximately 20 different Karankawa camp sites within the first few miles of the north end of the island.
--Official study in the 60's via the State of Texas/Feds
"Look at that full moon tonight! If that old moon could talk couldn't he tell us something. Five hundred years ago he saw a lot of dam*fool Indians running around. Tonight he sees other men running here and there. All any of them are doing is to pass the time away. Men are like grains of sand, blown by the blasts of fate."
--Pat Dunn, 1927 remarks at the Green Hill line camp one night around campfire during cattle roundup
"That judge over in Rockport where Dunn's case was transferred looked at the Duke of Padre and said, "Mr. Dunn, we are highly honored to have you in our court and we shall see that you have justice." Pat Dunn snorted. "He** judge, I might as well go back. That's why I came over, because I was afraid I'd get justice in Corpus Christi."
--1930, court case of Mr. Pat Dunn, owner of Dunn Ranch
-Late 1800s chart depicting the old location of Corpus Christi Pass (emptying out at present day Bob Hall Pier and running partly through current Lake Padre)
Corpus Pass? Heck-folks have been calling any of the passes that are open that for years. At one time they had it 5 miles wide.
Well howdy everbody! Hope all ya'll been doing fine. Things on this end have been darn busy and all, what with getting married back in November. And I do suppose that the married life ain't all that bad. In fact, it's pretty darn good. Better than the beach has been this winter, and better than old Nueces County running off with the Padre GLO land, but I suppose we can get to that later. Trying to figure out them getting THAT land is like Dunn's joke about justice. For right now, let's talk my favorite subject of all, the Isla de Malaguitas. And as always, I've got a new book that any of ya'll can read need to go get.
It's been keeping me occupied for the past 4 months or so...and man was it over my head!
And just what the doctor ordered. Having finished up the Gulf Coast Association of Geological Studies book on Padre, and a few others, I needed something a little more in depth. The fact that Louis Rawalt helped with these studies was even better.
And my interest was piqued again and again as I read and read...
And I read the reports of the Padre BEFORE Padre as we know it...and the explanations of all the structures off the beach that I've zodiac fished...
And this one....this figure will teach you and show you and set your mind on fire if you're heart is in the right place...
But time waits for no man, and soon enough I was home and the ole lady of the house wanted to do a camper trip. We can do that!
And the beach was so quiet for a time.
But our solitude was disturbed to see this cluster of sea oats disturbed. It's been there in this one spot for years now, just holding down the backbeach from the winds. And some FOOL lit it on fire during a norther on the downwind side, ya know, and had a little "Bud light party." Unbelievable. And left the cans everywhere.
Even Max-Attack thought that was some bull!
And Esther too.
And 100 feet north, some other fool had burned his tent, his air mattress, and so much other rubber and vinyl that a PILE of black rubber trash remained that was just enormous.
But having a food slave, I mean, a wife, boy-it's got it's benefits! My gal sure knows how to keep a man from wandering too far before breakfast!
And Max wanted some.
And I stood there so close to old bombing range Eddie and just listened to the birds.
But the day was over before it began, limits of small eating size black drum and reds and whiting.
And night fell.
And looking inside, I found my gal cooking dinner and watching....one of those dreaded female shows!! Stay outside and hide in the truck!
So I had a personal jam out, while Project Runway or something or other played in that camper. Lol!
Darn right.
And come Sunday morning, it was time to go.
And a new trip begin. To explore, to learn, to see, to understand, and maybe just do a little night time playing with those old sharks.
And I quickly saw that the same old dump your trash crap is still going on out on the private land/old GLO land boundary. Wonder what old Nueces has got in store for their "new" purchase?
Animals.
Every last bit of this land....old Indian stomping grounds...and in need of protection and management of its sensitive cultural and archaeological significance.
As their camps lay to the south of the old Corpus Pass, and that pass extended to present day Bob Hall pier in the heyday of the Kronks and Copanos and Tonkawas, then it's only logical that this entire GLO land area was full of major archaeological sites. Over 20 in one 1964 publication through the Feds and the State. And even more found after that. How will Nueces/Corpus Christi deal with such a wonderful new "purchase?" I know! Let people shoot guns and four wheel drive all over the son of a bat!!
Corpus can't even manage the trash pickup, or the streets, or the gang tagging problem, or the crime, or the budget, or....well need I go on? Look at what goes on out there every single day any one goes to PINS!
Destroyed. Road created in the last 2 years by moronic boobs finding out that they could basically get away with it. So us wade fisherman and lovers of nature and lovers of history and us kayakers and photographers get to be overrun by the latest "club." And Nueces will NEVER be able to manage any of this land. When they take in a dollar, the city spends a buck fifty, and then invents a new tax to make up what they overspent. And when the mayor is more worried about jumping off the side of the seawall for "Buc-Day's" than funding our manpower shortened police force, I can see a wind farm or oil/gas wells in the future for this last remaining stretch of God's country...
Discouragement ringing in my ears just as loudly as the guns and long rifles I could hear shooting rounds off into the dune bordering Nighthawk Bay, the choice was clear. Go as far south and as far away from humanity's CRAP as possible. And I just couldn't get off my mind what had happened 2 days prior with Kathy on our camper trip on Saturday morning.
Two young guys in fancy trucks showed up 200 feet from our camp at 0745, take a massive diarrhea dump in the middle of the beach, go over the dunes with hatchets, and walk around looking for stuff to chop and a snake to maybe bite one of em. Come out, spend all day having a mini party a half mile south, and at the end of the day, high as a pie in the sky, meet up with two more buddies and then do donut after donut up and down the beach, against the dunes, and everywhere else-sand flying 50 feet up in the sky and 100 feet back. Come by little old me fishing down by the water and stop and ask me what I'm catching. I answer, and with a question of my own, ask who the fools are down there totally destroying the whole forebeach and backbeach and dunes.
Answer? And I quote. "All of us #$#$#! It's called the BEACH bi*ch! It's called I do what I WANT WHEN I WANT, HOW I WANT, AND ANY WAY I WANT! IN FACT, YOU CAN RIGHT THIS DOWN! MY NAME IS "------ -------" DONT GIVE A #$# AND DRIVE ANY WAY I WANT WHENEVER I WANT! IT'S CALLED THE BEACH #$$&* AND I'LL DO WHATEVER I WANT ANY TIME THAT I WANT AND NO ONE IS GONNA STOP ME!"
The last I saw of old boy was his spinning wheels throwing sand all over me and then his buddies blowing through camp at 45mph screaming and making obscene gestures.
And well, well. My, my, my. Three things here. Number one? This state is called Texas. And while we enjoy a lot of freedom in this great state, there are MORE than a few old boys who you will NOT do whatever you want, when you want, around. And this park? It's federal. And the feds just ain't ABOUT to put up with all that jibberish. Two, those same Texas fellas will put someone DOWN before one of their loved ones or family is hurt by someone else purposefully. There are MEN in this state, not metrosexuals. Three, there are still those who WILL and DO stand up for what is right. And I'll be darned if I won't do the same. God bless our law enforcement for putting up with some of these nimrods. You see, not everyone's momma hung on to 'em. Some of those babies got dropped a time or maybe two. Good luck out there to all the LEO's that have to put up with my generation.
But the way was clear, the present washing away and the dirt of my reminisces falling off as the Island of the Karankawas called me home...home...
But in the Island there is healing, and even with the water table visually showing all over the Island, there would still be places to go to be alone and to see the Island as it should be...
And like a warm flood of relief, I was back on hallowed and sacred ground of Little Shell...
And the Herons would herald me south as I ran away from everything in this world that I hate.
And the beach was totally empty...just me...just me and the thoughts running around in this head of mine...
What secrets do you hold Padre?
And as always I made a stop at the Kronk camp at Green Hill to pay my respects to the lost tribe and see the view.
But some NASTY ignorant human doormat used his God given ingenuity to create his own personal camp chair "toilet." Complete with you know what all over the place.
But the view from the window was gorgeous as always.
What secrets lie in these hills? 46 miles from Corpus Pass in the 30's I wonder all the time...
I love this time of day. The shadows are unparalleled in these high banks of the El Codo del Diablo.
So pretty...
And so full of shadows...
Just 130,434 something acres of wilderness...
But it was soon time to go. And I noticed the same old leftover Sharkathon damage. Hard not to do this amount of it when you turn several 600 entrants plus guests loose during a coastal flood advisory...
And falcons and hawks see everything, and hunt while I think and drive.
And my newest wreck find remains alive and well and readying itself for the summer trout season!
Boots back on Padre soil again!
And with a late arrival down south at the mornings exploration spot, I night fished.
And watched stars out in the middle of an empty beach, a Monday night and no one but me past Black Hill.
And the moon would pop up around midnight.
And around 5am I awoke and made the morning coffee.
And the morning brought mist and mystery, and hope.
And I remained contemplative. I sometimes wonder why I feel so strongly about old Padre. But I just do. I think over the years it's just become a part of me, it's gentle breezes, and violent gales, it's big fat rain drops during the spring days when the weed lines the shores like a brown blanket for mile after kidney jarring mile...
But before the day could get started. Ring check! Lol....it's called not losing the doggone thing and ending up wearing a pawn shop replacement like this old boy I work with.
And the back side called me.
And I would soon surprise some critters of the night.
And the distances overwhelmed me, as they always do.
And out I went.
To see what I could see...and hunt a place I now know I haven't yet found.
And the freshwater table was pooled up everywhere, as I have known for months, making all of my big plans wait for a drier season.
But I continued blazing my own trail through such quiet and peaceful places, leaving nothing less than the vague whisper of my passage behind me...
And my destination came into view. A debris pile from the 50s and 60s from an unknown source.
But it would have to wait as the slipface of an actively migrating longitudinal dune drew me away.
And it was just what my soul needed.
And I finally photographed one of the numerous spiders that inhabit the upper foreface of so many dunes on the Isla Blanca. Jay? Any idea bud?
And I crept quietly through such a silent spot, just soaking in every last feeling of complete aloneness. There's no one "doing whatever they want WHEN they want" here...
And on to the trash pile I would go.
Was it from the Dunn ranch operation?
We may never know.
It's contents were all so very old.
And the next find was a tree so large it left me breathless.
So I got a picture with it for scale. Look at this old married man here. Lol.
And some very old Cheetos!
And the den of those elusive Mexican ground squirrels. David Sikes tells me he got a picture of one of those guys! Tough to do!
And on I went, studying the now vegetated dune I walked.
And the areas that were inundated. This is how the old timers found their water well locations. They made note of the areas that exposed water first.
And I wished so badly I could strike out for locations unexplored, but I would need a kayak for that!
So I took a break.
And back into the foredunes I went.
And onwards south I would go.
To watch ducks.
And be caught away by things that always catch my eye. Wish I had a good spotting scope!
And out I came onto the beach and into the breeze. And with a long walk ahead of me still. But it's the beach, right? "Do whatever you want however you want, any time you want!" Lol....
What water.
Time to shell hunt.
Those long blue stretches just tug my heart strings so hard some days...
For the rest of my life I never want to be without these memories, these sights, these experiences...young, healthy, able to stand up for what I believe and with the freedom to choose the right thing over the wrong.
I always speak to these fellows...how long you been out there buddy? Those barnacles tell your story...
Beach burger time!
And on to the Nic, my next destination.
And on for a boat ride.
The history....
And I would read my fish finder and fish 360 degrees around the wreck...
See the bow stem? It's still there. Do NOT forget it's there just under the surface!
OUCH
And back in Louis' last camp, all was quiet.
But like always, I would head to the night's location to wage my own little war...
Out you go.
Set!
And I remained the only soul on Island.
Just myself.
And the breeze cried undecipherable utterings of Spanish explorers, of alleged English encroachment, and of Karankawa mitotes and of Billy's Indian flutes.
And Steve's rod build continued to attract my eye. It's the most beautiful wrap I've ever seen old buddy.
With the best guides on the beach.
Jerry Brown solid core.
Power pro.
One married goon!!!
Who was happy to go face first!
And watch the sun setting.
But it got cold, and I had to go grab the softest sweater I own, from Albert's shop! Over the years I sure have enjoyed using the heavy weights you've sold me. Remember that time you asked me to run that whole jack out from the turtle shack and don't stop paddling? Think I was almost to Port Aransas by the time you locked down on me to stop me. Lol.
And I would clean up and sit in the truck with a new book from Jeff.
But my book took precedence! The latest.
And in particular....the preface caught my attention and caused me to think.
But after hiking 5 miles with 3 being back country, it was time to eat!
And the morning brought continued good weather.
Time to get after it!
And like it sometimes does, a man couldn't differentiate from the endless reaches of deep blue sea or the eternal sky that lay above.
And my ray? Kept me up the whole doggone night getting bitten, picked up, dropped, and repeated!
Back home to Papa.
And the future bright.
But it was time to get after it. You see....there's a Mexican War area that I haven't been able to get out of my mind now for years, and the search must continue while my mystery shark took a daytime break.
More ground squirrels!
And into the area of the old Comanche and Karankawa battle ground. You see, legend has it that the Comanches followed the Karankawas back to the coast. The Kronks retreated to Padre for safety, but only to have the invaders follow them across the southern ford near Port Isabel. And Padre being a "do whatever you want to do whenever you want to do it, including drive like a nimrod" kind of island-they had an all out stand your grand battle near this area. If the ghosts of their souls live on, I'm always listening here in this site. There's no way to know is there....
Some of the old washover delta ponds remain year round..
And the only living creature I would see would be this deer. And a few others that correctly knew to flee when he did, but we'll get to that.
Gorgeous....old hurricane blowout.
Ahh, there you guys are. Two of ya. Ya know, I haven't had anyone to track for a while, been kinda boring.
And what lie inside the next find? Never tell.
But I would let well enough alone for a while, and keep on heading south searching for any clue of the site I so desperately search for.
And the hurricane fan continued for several miles, blocking me from searching further west.
You out there? Old Kronks? I'm here...
But only the mysteries that never will let themselves be solved, that hide behind the sands of the hourglass' endless march to the beat of time would appear...
And a lone bird at the edge of a hurricane fan caught my eye.
And another year round incipient pond.
And some "do whatever you want it's called the beach bi*ch" Johnny Walker! Lol!
And another mystery caught my eye.
And on my way there, I continued to look for signs.
And finally, I made it to one of my favorite places on Island. No one really knows anything about it, but it remains an utterly beautiful fortification of dunes, that have to be walked to be understood.
But I passed them up to continue on south.
But then-this! Bird action from the surf?! Time to get outta dodge!
But they moved offshore and were further south.
And there I was, just a man alone and with no one's tracks on Island but Jeff, Billy, and Sikes, on a jetty trip. Well, and some fools running around behind the dunes living off nuts and berries ( you know-"doing whatever they want-when they want-any time they want" and all that)
And the tide rose and the birds played.
And by went a...boat?
Well, at least we all know who to blame if certain things start washing up.
And on the way back I paid a visit to my friends from Haiti, I mean Guatemala, I mean Venezuela, I mean Columbia, I mean...do we even know any more??
And got to camp, and cooked up another beach burger!
And caught some fish doggonit.
And relocated in a 3rd location for the next morning's exploration, I set 'em out.
But back up on the dunes I would go, to sit and reflect on what was here. And I swear I could feel the ghosts. The ghosts of the old Coast Guard beach patrol station that lie in this flat, hidden by the sands of time and by the passing of those who served here during WWII.
But the night would produce blacktips, and more SCREAMING runs on the large "3 day ray." My only thought was...hammers? With the runs being 40 seconds long every 2 hours but without hooksets, all I could do was pray. I have the gear to put the brakes on their behinds, and get them up on the hill QUICK. The quicker the better. I would rather catch NOTHING than have anything perish on me. I still see the eyes of each shark sometimes...it's always the eyes...and after the Pygmy sperm whale of December 30th, I know I'll never be the same...
But while I waited for my dinner, a T-Bone, to marinate....THIS!
Even my Little Debbie Struesel Cake! Oh #@$ no!!!!
Even the Ramen Noodle pack! That thieving coon was back! When I walked around the truck, I saw a dog jump off the tailgate, that's how big he was...and off we went after devouring EVERYTHING.
So I REALLY ticked him off...and smoked up the dunes with bacon wrapped sirloin, straight from Moody's meat market...
And after a long night of blistering runs on the ray, and blacktips on everything else, there I was.
And on came the storm front...
EVIL ANIMAL!!!!
And I got up on the foredune ridge to watch it roll over my camp like a steamroller.
This sight never gets old for me...when it storms on Isla Blanca is the best time. My old lady says if I could live on the Island I would, because I'm just that way. And she's right. You can't see or learn anything about the ornery old Island if you aren't there to see things.
And the ray? Came back annihilated!! That darn shark did "whatever he wanted, however he wanted to do it, when he wanted to do it, it's called the beach bi*ch!" Lol, what a tool. Prolly be the very very FIRST to sign up for Sharkathon this year. Lol, oh my poor wife. Good luck straightening me out.
And a "harasso-plane" would fly by at ground level.
But on I would go, suited up and ready to pay my WWII friends a visit back at the old Coast Guard station. Lol, darn I love this Island. Every day of my life baby. And these chaps? Kevlar. Winter rattlesnake day got nothing on this!
Hahahaha...go back in there with my David Ortiz, "Tonta" playing and roust out those ole "migrants."
Onwards!!
And here's what's left of the observation tower.
Didn't expect to actually see a building did ya? Lol.
In this site was two cabins, one left and one right. They are gone now. All that is left to carry on some of these memories I think sometimes is what I can store in my mind. And as always, I spoke to the memory of those who served here, and sat in their midsts.
And then I searched the sediments using what the American Association of Petroleum Engineers taught me in their 9 year book study...
You can NOT tell how truly tall this duneface really was...
A back dune incipient pond! Cool!
And the higher up I ventured, the higher the winds.
This dune JUST became active...
And back came the "harasso-plane," at ground level again. Hmm. If we find more backpacks behind the dune line, I suppose we'll also know why.
And the evil coon!! Stalker!!!!
It's been about three years for me to explore this spot, but a lot more is exposed now than before. Welcome to such a changing and dynamic place.
What have you seen? Where did you come from? Where have you been?
And more oyster shells from the old river delta that existed here way way before this Holocene era.
And I finally chased down a cricket and got him!
But back on the beach, the storm was only picking up.
Continued on next post... _________________ Protect Padre at all costs for future generations to use and enjoy and never forget our freedoms aren't free.
Thanks, Towboat. Awesome pics and read as usual. Interesting bit about the pass and Bob Hall Pier too! _________________ Like Corpusfishing.com on Facebook!
Great report as always. I can't believe that total Jack-A that 'did what he wanted, when he wanted'. That dude and his buddies need a good ole fashioned butt whooping. _________________ ...if my boss ever finds this forum I'll be unemployed...
Finally got to enjoy the whole report and pictures! Great stuff as usual!!!
I would like a chance to deal with the "do what he wants, when he wants punks"! I assure you given the opportunity I would enjoy showing them a "different" way of looking at life. Maybe not the Padre Island beat down they deserve but we still have our ways!!!
Thanks again for posting! Hope to catch you down there soon!
Joined: 03 Aug 2008 Posts: 18 Location: Keller, TX
Posted: Mon Feb 23, 2015 9:01 am Post subject:
I am from the DFW area and don't get down there as much as I would like. I really enjoy Corpusfishing.com especially the pics, history lessons, and fishing stories from Towboat. Thanks
Joined: 07 Mar 2006 Posts: 489 Location: CORPUS CHRISTI
Posted: Tue Feb 24, 2015 9:51 pm Post subject:
Thanks for sharing. Loved every bit of it. _________________ Be the kind of man that when your feet hit the floor each morning the devil says "Oh Crap, he's up!"
Joined: 25 May 2009 Posts: 615 Location: somewhere on 130 miles of beach
Posted: Thu Feb 26, 2015 10:37 pm Post subject:
Howdy everybody. Glad ya'll enjoyed the read, even though it ran a bit long. I get a little excited about pictures now that buying film is optional I suppose! Ya'll take care. _________________ Protect Padre at all costs for future generations to use and enjoy and never forget our freedoms aren't free.
Joined: 04 Mar 2014 Posts: 33 Location: San Antonio
Posted: Fri Feb 27, 2015 10:01 am Post subject:
GREAT POST!!!! Thank you for sharing. I am really digging your setup out there. I am now thinking of a small trailer myself. I already have everything else. I keep my 30-footer in Rockport year round. A small little 14-footer would serve great as a movable fishing shack!
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In fact, it's pretty darn good. Better than the beach has been this winter, and better than old Nueces County running off with the Padre GLO land, but I suppose we can get to that later. Trying to figure out them getting THAT land is like Dunn's joke about justice. For right now, let's talk my favorite subject of all, the Isla de Malaguitas. And as always, I've got a new book that any of ya'll can read need to go get.
Unbelievable. And left the cans everywhere.
Lol, oh my poor wife. Good luck straightening me out.
