The Clams Are Biting........The Fishing Report

  Every now and again, I used to get a call from my elderly uncle who had moved from Mississippi to Missouri.  He wanted to "check the fishing reports".  Uncle Alfred used to live just one house over from the Little Bayou House and loved to go fishing.  He and my Aunt Marie fished just about their entire lives and the love of the water lived on with him even though he moved away after she died.  Before he passed away, he and I would chat on the phone about fishing and his dream of coming back to the Bayou "just one more time".  While he knew the trip was not reasonable at his age of almost 100 but we "dreamed" and made plans, all the same.  The fishing report was about whatever was in the Bay at the time.  It did not matter if I told him about menhaden, redfish or otters.  He loved every minute of the report.  I loved every minute of sharing with him and I miss his calls terribly now.

  The fishing report of the day sort of goes like this.  I caught a nice sized fishing line complete with sinkers and hook!  I was slow-dragging my bait along bottom thinking I may pick up a flounder but hooked into the old line. It was a good pull!  At this point, Uncle Alfred would have made a joke and asked how long I thought the line had been snagged there before I caught it.  We would banter back and forth for a bit before I moved on with the next bit of the report.  Also, the clams are biting really good now!  Mark caught a nice, heavy one up near the shoreline this morning.  He was hoping to catch a redfish that was running the marsh but the clam bit first.  We decided to let it go, however, since we only had the one.  Again, Uncle Alfred would have had some quip about the clam and probably have related a tale of going clamming during his younger days.  The rest of the fishing report would have been filled with tidbits of news about the number of schools of menhaden, recent catches of shrimp and how many crab pots we have at the end of the pier.  Once the report was complete, he and I would, once again, make those plans for his fishing trip.  That fishing trip was never made, at least, not physically.  He told me that he fished from our pier in his dreams and that made him happy.  Talking with him made me happy.

  The truth behind the above fishing report was that I did, indeed, hook and bring in an old line that had been snagged on a log.  Pulling it off was quite the job but I am glad it is no longer posing a danger to the sea life.  Mark did catch a clam on his line but not on the hook.  His sinker weights became wedged between the hinge of the clam shell allowing him to pull the large clam right up on the pier.  These tales would have delighted Uncle Alfred and made those dreams even more exciting.  Even though it has been several years since he passed, I still think of our phone calls and reports.  I sure miss that man!