Corpusfishing.com

[Towboat Trash]

"I can't remember anything
Can't tell if this is true or a dream
Deep down inside I feel the scream...
I'm waking up, I cannot see
That there's not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now...."

--"One", Metallica, 1988, "In Justice for All" album

"I stood there boldly,
Sweatin in the sun.
Felt like a million,
Felt like number one.
The height of summer,
I'd never felt that strong....
Like a rock...."

--Bob Seger, Like a Rock, 1986.


"LOOKIE HERE!!!!"

Iridescent bubbles slipped by the neon green house paint of our hull as I watched, mesmerized by each and every one as they passed marked by a swirling cascade of underwater plumes, each splashed with varying degrees of color the likes of which I'd only read about. It was my very first time offshore and the water was clear as bathwater, with not a drop of the dirt or marsh sediment I'd grown up with all my life to it, and all I knew is we were deep. Very deep. Somewhere way deep offshore of my home far away on land in south Georgia, and making the annual trek to South Carolina for the opening of their shrimp season which was before ours.

But at that particular instant, there remained the unintelligible guttural scream from the wheelhouse. Quick scramble forward from the back deck of the old 65 ft neon green trawler named the "Alligator," thus the green paint. "Now look here!!!!!! You gone take this here! And you gonna follow it!! This here is called a Loran line! You get offa that line you wake my a** up! Hear? And I'll be in the rack! Don't go out on deck, don't @#$% around, and watch that da*n line! Me and Wynn gonna lay down and then drive tonight while your a** sleep!" Another grunt of satisfaction, one last remark about da*n dummies, and one last hit off a brown pack Winston, a snap of the fingers and it flipped over the side, and then he was gone. And Captain Darwin was NEVER gone. All I knew for sure is that we were way out of sight of land, and for reasons completely unknown to me, I was completely alone in charge of our 40 year old handcrafted wooden trawler, last of a dying breed and captained by a dying breed and built when men were men and kids like me were already working full time. Georgia lie somewhere behind us and South Carolina and the opening of their shrimp season somewhere ahead of us. The old Detroit hummed, and our birds were up and our outriggers down as we gently rolled in a slight beam sea while steaming northward through the Atlantic Ocean. I was 15 and I had never been alone on a shrimp boat before and I was spooked. But it was figure it out or get attacked by the captain, and soon the morning became afternoon, the winds picked up, and the seas increased while the crew slept, our nets bobbed and weaved in the rigging, and the stay wires and guys towed the load.

And that's when it hit me. A feeling I'd never had before. Extreme hunger and extreme nausea. "Honeycomb Cereal," I thought. Just need to eat..."Yeah, milk and cereal, that's the ticket"...And what a bad idea that turned out to be.

The grizzled old hand snatched me away from the rail with the force of God, and the scream was maybe louder..."Dam* DUMMY!!! TOLD YOUR A** STAY IN THE WHEELHOUSE!" The laugh was unmistakeable. "OH YOUR A** SICK! TOLD YOU AND THAT OTHER BOY BOUT THEM NASTY BEHIND HONEYCOMB CEREAL!!! HAH! HAH! HAH HAH HAH! TAKE YOURSELF TO THE RACK I GOT THIS FROM HERE! LITTLE PISSANTS! HAH! HAHA! DA*N DUMMIES!!!" And Cap' lit a brown pack Winston with a big old grin on his face and the smell made me hurl all over again while he laughed and laughed and laughed.

Everybody remembers their first seasickness. Sure do. Liar if ya don't. We ate our honeycombs out of a massive country crock container back then, and I think I puked up about a half a box worth that day. Never felt worse.

Which leads to the latest beach trip. With three Jacks, five rays, and other goodies, I planned to shark fish from Monday to about Friday, and was SURE that NOTHING was gonna stop this epic trip from going down!!!!

But first! This man deserves his own statue, maybe down next to the Selena one or something. SILVER BULLET BAND FOREVER BABY!!!!


And me and Bob hit the beaches for some very very juicy baits and maybe even..some jumbo Gulf White shrimp!!!!


While the ridiculous bulldoze the beach nonsense continued. Reason 10,303 that the National Seashore should have gotten the disputed GLO Land south of 'Bob Hall Pier, not the county.


17 rays later, the beach was pronounced safe for swimming once again...


And there we were.


Love it. Everything the National Park does, is done with care. While I watch the rest of the city turn into a decaying 3rd world street system, on THIS park, there is a plan of management and care in place.


Including this new signage for the Novillo Line Camp, Dunn Ranch.


Such pretty Spanish dagger!


It's growing back now after being almost wiped out by the ranching era.


And the beachfront was blown out for the next two days, but I had plans!




And busy to boot.


And full of birds! Juvenile Reddish Egret.




Adult long billed curlew! A favorite! Love these guys!


Breeding plumage sandwich terns, one Caspian tern, one nonbreeding black tern, some laughing gulls, and a bunch of Royal terns! Buddies at large!




Breeding adult Black tern, two non-breeding adult black terns, Long-Billed curlew! Two adult nonbreeding sanderlings!


And it was rough.


More sandwich terns!


And green shoreline algae that we see in the first few miles of the seashore seems like every summer and fall now.


Fly black tern, fly! You dusky anchovy bird, you!




And Yarborough remained closed. But plans are already set for its repair, and it'll be up to us to keep it good once it's fixed.


And I soon saw the solace I looked for.


And I hit one of my favorite places on Island, a place I that calls me all year long...


And my old houseboat remained.


And so did one of my favorite hills on Island...


The hills of "Los Carnestoliendos...." I love this Island. Every part of it. And I swear without fail, that these old ghosts, these old stories, these old Indians know my mind is open and my spirit thinks of them. And there's never a time when the Padre's Island lets me down in that regard. It seems like there's always eyes in the hills around me, and a spirit of magic each and every time I get to visit once again.


Just magic. And the world faded away.


And there we were, in one of my most favorite spots.


And the restlessness that drove me here to this place on this day struck deep inside of me.


You see, I didn't wanna see you, me, him, her, or the next guy. I just wanted to drop off the face of the Earth, no phone, no red or green buoys, no barges, and no human beings. And I just don't know where else to go to get away from them than here.


And the old WWII road of Ralph and Billy after him, and the Dunn Ranch before them both led me on....


And the first mission lie dead ahead! An old WWII trainer plane visual aid arrow for the Navy pilots!!!!!
Totally awesome and so full of history!!!!


And not one, but TWO to find today!!!! See them?


And it was time for the hammer to DROP on some PADRE ISLAND EXPEDITIONS BABY!!!!!!


The arrows were made of some kind of substrate similar to concrete but different...


And here was the first one....




History....




See it pointing southeastward?


And it's a hard substance, meant to last years, and it has...




And I took a moment to step back into the hands of time...


And then?! Black tailed jackrabbit remains??? What's fast enough to have gotten this fast lil bugger!




See it now?


And in the distance, another black tailed jackrabbit watched me through the heat waves.....




On to the next one!


On to the next one!


And there it was!


You're looking at some very old history here....


The arrow head....


And old ordinance lay all around....not good....


And what's this? A breeding Least Tern? Divebombing?


Sure enough.




And some of the northers over the years had broken off pieces of the arrow and washed it south...and 100 feet away there we were.


And I saw two pieces....


And couldn't believe my eyes! I knew there was bird nesting nearby...but WOW! Just a hiding in the shade!




A chick! Possibly a Least tern chick?!


And it was the most beautiful thing I have seen on the Isla de Malaquittas in a long, long time!




And the whole world faded away as I watched such a young life hidden away on the Padre's Island.


Long may you run little buddy, long may you run.....




Nature is so amazing! Every little thing has a purpose!





And I laughed! Because the terns had even laid eggs on old Mark series bombs! Haha! What a hoot!


And my heart was so happy, while the rest of mankind can duke it out on the beach having a "rodeo" or whatever kinda nonsense is going on this week, my goofy butt was behind the duneline playing Louis Rawalt...


Look at those spots! So cool!


And I laid down again face and belly down on the algal mat and watched again....


And laughed, because there was even barnacles on some of the old ordinance....and this area is inundated all winter long, but I didn't think long enough for these to grow!




And my tern buddy told me, "Time to go buddy! Before your bootie gets pecked!"


And I admired gopher tracks as I left....


And back on the road again, I ran into some of the rest of Padre slapping me right in the face. Within the last two days, more ridiculous shenanigans that separate the men from the boys, and threaten to get us all kicked right out of every last spot we have left to fish, which aren't many these days by foot or vehicle....


And I just couldn't understand it. WHAT ABOUT STAY ON THE ROAD IS UNCLEAR? WHAT ABOUT DON'T LEAVE THE ROAD DO FOLKS NOT GET???


And I laughed because as I rolled 10,000 lbs of truck and then a trailer filled with 55 gallons of water, 35 gallons of diesel fuel, 3 jacks, 5 rays, 250 lbs of block ice, 60 waters, two steaks, 4 burgers, 4 pork chops, 4 lbs of shrimp, and gear with no problem, some bonehead stuck his vehicle a mere 10 feet away to the frame.


But soon I reached my spot, and it was about to be ON! Suit up and ROLL OUT!!!!


Time to man up!


And of course, the South blow had the waters pushed way out...


And all that remained were old prop scars.


What a cool sight though.


I'm always in disbelief at how shallow some of these boats get run.


And I reached the first grass bed.


And man, was it cool to literally look at all 12,000 odd acres of that area and see NO ONE. JUST ME.


And it was...foamy as well.


And I fished peeler crab Gulps, and new penny crab Gulps, and man-was just a regular bay fisherman that day!


And there we were. Just in no man's land all alone about a mile and a quarter from the truck via GPS.


And what a walk it was! Whew!!


And I smelled the mud, and pulled up some hard pieces that I could feel at times down below.


And man oh man was it solitary out there.


Past the 2nd grass bed, the sun began setting, my scout was complete, and even my peeled shrimp offerings had no takers. But there was a TON of pony mullet against the beds and mystery fish in the potholes at times!!

So I headed back during the daylight that was left.


And what a bobbing weaving road it was...


And right after dark, I made it, and set up camp. And it was just what the doctor ordered. Just myself, ABSOLUTELY no beach light bar nonsense all night until 3 am....
So I drank some more water and slapped a beach burger together....and the last three bites....something felt OFF. Very off...I had a massive urge to spit it all out and felt...sick...


I shrugged it off and put the tent-kot together....but the feeling got worse....little did I know. Immediately upon laying down, I felt the unmistakable desire to just puke, and to make it worse, EXTREME Number 2 action...!! And I had terrible sweats and the water just rolled down my head I was so hot.


And I can honestly say that was one of the longest nights I've ever had on Island...I puked all night, and when I wasn't doing that, I QUITE literally had a version of "Montezuma's Revenge" going on...and morning just wouldn't come, and I couldn't think because I was hurting, and I ate Tums like it would make a difference, and then ran back to hurl all over again.


Didn't wanna eat, didn't wanna drive, didn't wanna drink, didn't wanna think, and didn't wanna fish for darn sure. Felt TERRIBLE. I knew I had either what I thought to be food poisoning or a really nasty stomach bug. ARGH!!! My strength was gone, and I had a migraine and was dizzy to boot.


But there was no WAY I was leaving the Island!!!!!!! THIS MISSION WILL CONTINUE!!!! So I loaded up, and rolled south to visit some special areas before heading back beachfront, as there was no WAY I could physically wade again.


And there it still sat.


Lol, I remember the year this washed in, calling the owner to tell him...boy was he made it was on PINS property....


Just a houseboat from the Laguna Madre's waters....


And I saw someone bashed the glass door out.


Boy, does that mat feel good and soft on a man's feet.


And paid a visit to the old Dunn Ranch line camp down at Green Hill.


I love this old spot. And I love Ralph's stories about it too...


Oh, the years and what you have seen...


You're looking towards where the cabins used to lay, as well as the water tank and a dipping vat.


And time marches on...


Feeling terrible, I went back and hit the beach, and still "Number two-ing," unable to drive, and nauseous to the point of ridiculousness, I just pulled over. Laid against my publications for the next 5 hours and went back to sleep.


And I woke up around 1300 hours when old Jeff pulled over to see what in the world I was doing. Deciding that there was no WAY I was NOT going to make this week long trip, after he left, I slowly headed down the beach south. And correctly assumed a little Bob would cheer me up. You darn right!


And the loudest whirring noise I ever heard issued from the undercarriage, and yep....the carrier bearing mount had separated from the carrier bearing bracket and there we were with a loose driveshaft.


Well, well!! Guess this trip was gonna be a wrap after all!!!!! So I secured that bearing back into the housing and hoped for the best. Mexican longline beach rope forever!


And about the time I got back into town I was running a fever and had the chills. But ya know what, I made it. And that's unbelievable, isn't it? And while there aren't any fish in this little writeup, there sure enough were intentions of it. And I can honestly say I'm happy to have gotten horrendously ill again on Island. Every trip won't be "epic" and the only way to grow and learn at times is brutal and honest pain. At least it wasn't pneumonia like back in 2011, and at least nobody ate any "Honeycombs" prior to this event taking place. Lol. And strangely enough, it felt good to be so vulnerable and all alone way down there on the Padre's stretch of no man's land, camped on the surface of what might as well have been the moon. I waited all night for the coyotes to show up, but they never did. So odd. I'm with Billy on this one, maybe quite a few of the deer and other mammals have migrated over to King Ranch for a better shot at some water during these dry months. And nothing can replace the experience of seeing a Least tern chick, all fresh and new and covered in down.

God bless the Padre's Island. Ya'll take care of it and take care of eachother. I've got family in town all week so ya'll go catch some fish for me, ok? I'm off the whole month of September, so here's to ships that are gonna come in eventually...oh, and in the words of a very "sympathetic" old school sharker and rod builder friend of mine who was friends with Norman Bateman and the rest, "Huh? Well #%^& happens! Oh well!"

Haha.

Tight lines.

--Colin
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Protect Padre at all costs for future generations to use and enjoy and never forget our freedoms aren't free.

www.padreislandexpeditions.com

[fishinglady]

Glad you made it safely home. I really enjoy your posts.

[deputydawg]

Man tough trip but good story ! Glad you made it back and hope you get to feeling better!

I off week after next and hope to be down there a good portion of it. I expect the tropical disturbance/hurricane should be forming any time now! Lol

[shallowsport]

Epic trip....but maybe for all the wrong reasons. Did make for a great story. 10-4 on Bob Segar & the Silver Bullet Band***
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"I do hunt and I do fish and I do not apologize to anyone that I hunt and fish." - Norman Schwarzkopf

[Towboat Trash]

[HungerBuster]

Sorry to hear about the illness. I had one bout about ten years ago where I flipped my yak and drank half of the Gulf. In three hours I was running a fever, felt like my body was on fire and couldn't keep even water down. Worst night on the beach in my life, but there was no way I had the energy to pack up and make it off, especially in the dark. I wonder if you playing around in the mud had anything to do with how quick it all came on....heh.

One of the lesser known "purposes" of the laguna is to literally filter sewage dumped into the rivers-- it actually does a pretty good job. One large toilet.

On the sea sickness bit, only time I've ever had it bad was on a long range tuna trip we took out of surfside-- with Captain Elliot's on a 110 footer (man I wish they were still around!). We went out in 8ft seas with hopes of riding it out. The salami, cheese and crackers seemed like a good idea on the way out. My oh my. Bad stuff. But we caught the heck out of the vermillion and tuna!!

Good to see the "other side" of the island. As always, you are the MAN!

HB
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Fish ON!

[R.Arnold]

cool read, I bet that mud bog was tough to wade through! I think the hind leg of the animal is actually a whitetail fawn not a jack rabbit.

[Towboat Trash]

[DaninTexas]

I so look forward to your narratives.
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I fish therefore I am