It is a rare time that the pier is not in constant use to catch food for the folks of the Little Bayou House and those who come to visit. Lately, however, the weather has not be considerate enough to allow much fishing. If there is not a stiff north wind blowing the tide far out from the pier, clouds cover the sky and rains empty upon the Bayou. Thankfully, during better weather, we stockpile enough fish, shrimp and crabs to tide us over through inclement weather.
Today was one of those rainy days. Although predicted, there were no torrential downpours but a drizzly rain kept me indoors most of the day. A quick trip to the pier now and again was all that was in order. On one such trip, a thought entered the mind. How sad that the crab traps sit empty on the pier even though crabs were wandering about in search of an easy meal. The crab traps can sit through rain without us having to tend them so it would seemingly be an ideal situation. Nope...that north wind will leave them high and dry. If this happens, any crabs inside would surely die and I am not about to let that happen. There are strict rules regarding things like this. Around here, if you kill something, you had better make use of it in some way.
The thought about the crabs and not killing things evoked a memory from years ago. A trio of teenagers came to the Bayou to visit Son. As usual, they wound up on the pier fishing. I was happy to supply fishing gear, bait and time. Son came back to the house after a bit to do some chores and left his friends on the pier. A couple of hours later, I meandered down to check their catch. The three fellows proudly showed me an ice chest with about two dozen croakers in it. "Wow! That is great!" I exclaimed "You will eat good tonight!" All three boys looked at me in astonishment. "Oh, we were not going to eat them...just catch them." Huh? Not happening, my friends! I quickly reminded them of the rules of the pier that they agreed to follow and told them that they would, indeed, clean those fish and eat them. "We cannot. We do not know how to clean fish." a chorus of voices followed my statement. Needless to say, those three were quickly plied with fillet knives and a lesson on cleaning fish. Once they managed to chop (literally) their way through the fish, they were mighty proud but then asked me what should they do with the fish since their moms would not cook them. "Fry them yourselves." I said. Well, that seemed to present another problem because nary a one of these teenagers knew a thing about cooking. I was appalled, to say the least, and immediately told them that a cooking lesson was in order. "Up to the house, boys. You are going to cook your first meal."
That said, we all headed to the kitchen where I showed them how to wash their fish, prepare the seasoning, heat the oil and fry fish. Son came in to help with teaching his buddies on preparing a few side dishes to go along with their catch. Afterward, we all sat down to a hearty meal and some happy conversation. The boys were proud of their accomplishments that day and needless to say, they never wasted another fish from that point. When any of them come back "home", they are quick to remind me of that day and how they learned a lot of lessons from coming to the Bayou.
