Catfood for Chum.
By Allen Crise
My son Barry will tell you about a Lighthouse Lakes crab that took
off the end of his fly rod. It happened so fast that Barry just looked
at the place where there was a guide left, dumbfounded. It had been
there just a second before. All he did was try to change the crabs route
a little.
Me, I do things in a bigger way.
I was fishing on Florida's west coast for reds with a
guide. The guide kept chumming an area to see if he could get a red fish
with in range. Now this worked fairly well.
So the next time I got to Aransas Pass, on the Texas coast, I was ready.
I had bought a couple of cans of cheap cat food. You know that kind that
leaves the smell of low tide's dead fish in the house for days. Yeah,
that kind. Pink label with a little kitty licking his lips.
I paddled out of the Brown and Root side of the Causeway to
Aransas Texas. Out on the flat, west of the third bridge. maybe two
hundred yards. Staked out my kayak and waded a little more to get away
from the noise the waves were making on the hull.
I opened the can by punching some holes in it. Tied a rope
to it, and let it swing in the water from my wader belt. Now I was ready
to make that one cast to the fish that would be coming up the chum slick
that was drifting off to the west. Watching for the shadows that I was
sure would come to me, all I had to do was just wait.
The wait was not long when the first of the blue crabs
showed up. Yep, that was what I saw first. Second. Third, fourth, Where
did they all come from? Dozen of them were all coming my way. Some were
over fifteen inches from claw to claw. Now I did not see any reds or any
other fish. All I saw was rats. Boy, can they move side ways fast. So I
started backing up then faster. Dummy me I still had the cat food
hanging from my waist. Trying to untie it was a joke in itself: the can
kept swinging around and I kept turning to keep my eye on the hoards of
crabs ganging up on me. And not letting my rod touch the water. Remember
the Barry Story?
I did not want to just toss the can out on the flat. My
"clean water conservation: side kicked in. So I held it above the
water. Right! Letting it drain.
Now there were crabs that would stall an outboard by just
grabbing the prop. I was making a hasty retreat to the kayak. I boarded
in one fast leap. Still holding the cat food can above the water.
"Ok, now I can set the can down in the bottom of the
kayak. with the holes up," I thought. Now I will tell you that
every rat on B&R flat was looking at my little kayak. I pulled up
the stake I had stuck in the scupper hole through the bottom and made
ready to leave. Oops. Forgot I had the anchor out just in case. So I
pulled up the anchor, but the rocking had up-set the cat food can. It
was spilling its stinky contents on the bottom of the sit-on-top kayak.
Not to worry, it will drain.
Right hen I had more CRABS that I knew were in all the Gulf
of Mexico right under my kayak. There were smaller crabs coming up
through the scupper holes. Right between my legs! Was it better in the
water or in the boat? How high can you sit in a kayak? What did I have
to defend myself? Anchor. fishing rod, rope, paddle, stake, bare hands..
.
Well the paddle was the best choice. I could scoop them
out. Put my plug in and be safe. Where was that plug? Well if you think
that swinging a kayak paddle as a shovel is easy while sitting in a boat
full of crabs it is not.
I ran out of words before the last of the "pinchers of
death" were sent over the side. Stroke-stroke-stroke, fast leaving
the area. The can was rolling in the bottom, most of its contents were
just slopping around making the smell something close to the -back door
of the fish house. Stoke-stroke-stroke. Still, the smell was almost over
powering. Now with the Texas summer sun shining into the yak my head was
swimming. I was getting the feeling that there was something following
me. Looking over my shoulder I did not see a thing but the slick I was
leaving. Above my head were screams of the gulls, lots of sea gulls,
feeding on the bits and pieces that were washing off the kayak where I
had dripped the cat food. Remember the Hitchcock film the "The
Birds"?
Nearer near the launch area I was feeling somewhat better.
I stopped, got out and washed off the boat, me and the can. Cleaned as
best I could every last drop off. Then before the scent could spread I
paddled in. Leaving the crabs and birds to fight for the morsels I had
left for them.
Yep. Another good Idea gone bad.
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About the Author
Allen Crise
was in Michigan, moved to the Florida Keys and lived there for almost 20
years, fished offshore and guided the backcountry. His ft instructor was
his Dad then Joe Brooks. He started building rods in 197 and m Met
'Lefty' Kreh that same year. Allen moved to Texas 1979 and has worked
for TXU since '82. He has has fished from Canada to the Bahamas, New
England to the Rockies. He and his wife Nola have three daughters, five
grand kids and five great-grand kids. |
